Big Red: His life, his times, his story
The life of myself, Ryan "Big Red" Burkett, is a long (well, maybe not yet) and storied one. I may not be a celebrity, and I may not be rich (even though I have multiple millionaire relatives in California, and you can bite me if you don't believe it), but everyone has a story, even me. This is my bio.
This is the life story of Ryan "Big Red" Burkett. I've never publicly told my entire life story, but I feel as if I have to, and I've thought that for a long time. Now, the long-awaited story MUST be told.
Ryan "Big Red" Burkett, formerly "Rapid" Ryan Burkett (more on that later), was born on November 25, 1987 in Tampa, Florida, at St. Josephs Hospital near Tampa Stadium, which is now the site of Raymond James Stadium. I had a fairly good young childhood, but I had already lived in three different places by age five. However, the third time was the charm, as I spent Kindergarten through 4th Grade in the same house, going to the same school, Sanders Memorial Elementary School (reader beware: This is a piss poor website for a crappy school), in Land O' Lakes, Florida. This was in Pasco County, and looking back, I hated it. I didn't like the people there very much, and despite it going from a C school to an A school since I left (reader beware: IT'S NOT MY FAULT), it probably still sucks. I didn't have many friends, seeing as people were always either with me or against me, with it being the latter a lot more often than the former. I was usually discriminated against, but since I was ALWAYS the tallest guy in class, no one ever even attempted to fight me, even at such a young, immature age. I had kids calling me gay (and most of them actually meant it) from about 2nd Grade forward. I went through such tortures as my student council election in Third Grade (which I lost, coming in second out of three candidates, as I at least had a CHANCE of winning). Suddenly, new life came forward with the shocking announcement that was made to me in February 1998, and my life was about to completely turn around. Hillsborough County, here I come.
It was announced that we all had to be out of the house by April 1st, and another home, this time in Carrollwood, FL (Hillsborough County), was found in March 1998. The successful movement took place on March 28-29, 1998, but I still went to Sanders for the rest of the year (reader beware: My parents weren't exactly honest about the "new address" that was told to the school at the time). I had my last day at Sanders on June 5, 1998, and it was bye-bye to the love-hate relationship with the people of Pasco County. However, little did I know how badly my new school would suck.
On August 13, 1998, I entered 5th Grade, starting out at Essrig Elementary School, and I was in the unusual position of being a 5th grader who was new to a school. I went through the year looking like an idiot (reader beware: I sure as hell wasn't the only idiot around those parts), and about halfway through the year, I became friends with Mark Livingston (now known as "The MAniac"), having absolutely no clue how much it would affect me in the long run. From then on, my life was different, and I never looked back. Sanders was basically in obscurity, and Essrig was far from it. I wasn't used to seeing so many people or such a variety of people on a daily basis. I gladly left elementary school, and moved on to what could be described as the most action-filled, most exciting, but possibly the worst 3 years of my life to this day, middle school.
I began going to Ben Hill Middle School on August 12, 1999. The next 9 ½ months could very well be described as the worst time I've ever had. I was an idiot who had no clue what the meanings of any "vulgar" or "sexual" terms were. A number of people also resented me, bringing back haunting memories of my past in Pasco County. The year was hell across the board, so to speak, until it FINALLY ended on May 24, 2000, and it was on to 7th Grade.
This is where my life began to pick up. See, in 7th Grade, dudes develop a lot more attraction to girls, as it should obviously be known to anyone reading this page that's at least 12 years old. This is where I first began "liking" girls, and this and that. I made a number of friends along the way, mainly friends of the different girls. I also began watching pro wrestling (mainly the WWF) in June of 2000, which I still love more than anything (wrestling, not the WWE). I truly evolved throughout 7th Grade, and I even picked up the nickname "Rapid" Ryan in October 2000, but all my past years were NOTHING compared to what would be the most action-filled, most exciting year of my life, as I wanted to really become someone. However, this journey would be hard as hell.
My 8th Grade year didn't really begin with a bang. It was basically just picking up where I left off last year, and nothing else. Things stayed this way for the remainder of 2001, but during Christmas Vacation in between semesters, a startling revelation hit me harder than a lightning bolt. "Rapid" Ryan Burkett would never be the same again.
You see, when I was going to Ben Hill, it seemed as if having no life and/or no or very few friends was heavily frowned upon. It seemed as if you had to hang out with the popular people and act both popular (also commonly known as preppy by some people) AND ghetto at the same time. Therefore, I began listening to both rock AND rap music, and I began acting kind of ghetto, kind of like a rocker, and trying to be popular, as I became a lot more social with people. Basically, I tried EVERYTHING to "make a name for myself" and not be left in the dust. I guess this was because I was so damn sick and tired of it, and I had remembered my past years of ridicule. And as I started doing this, "Rapid" Ryan was not just a nickname, but it was a whole personality, and it even evolved into a wrestling gimmick. I was involved in the ever-so-popular "backyard wrestling," and had been for quite some time up to this point. I began in the summer of 2000, when MAniac started the HWF (Hardcore Wrestling Federation). By the fall of 2000, it became the EHWF (Extreme Hardcore Wrestling Federation), which still wasn't much more original. The EHWF didn't really try to make a name for itself until right around the time that I started trying to make a name for myself. The "Rapid" character was almost a carbon copy of my real-life self. Yes, I actually used my backyard wrestling gimmick as a real life personality. See how desperate I was at the time, people? I was the strongest supporter of the people, the fans, that could have possibly been found. As I was riding high, so was the EHWF.
However, during the period of early 2002, disaster struck within the EHWF. One of the EHWF's superstars, Mad Dog, suffered a stroke on Wednesday, March 20, 2002 DURING SCHOOL at Ben Hill. Actually, it was right at the start of 1st period, which was around 9:30 in the morning. I was going along through first period, thinking something was weird, and I couldn't stop thinking about drugs. I guess it was just the comments that were made about them earlier that morning (specifically jokes about taking ecstasy with hamsters...I don't know why, it just randomly came up)...comments that played a huge role in the events that unfolded on March 20, 2002. I found out what was happening, and I went down to see what was going on, and I wasn't alone. Several people were down there, including a few friends, as well as administrators. One, in particular, spared no expense in taking names, in what she, as well as the paramedics themselves, described as "drug-related." The particular administrator, Linda Brink, called in Deputy Jesse Collins, who was, and still is today (as of 12/24/03), the school resource deputy at Ben Hill. He began questioning me about what had happened earlier in the morning, but soon after the questioning began, it turned into a full-fleged interrogation right there on school grounds. While I was still in his office, he asked me what I had eaten and what pills I had taken that morning. I started to answer, then he cut me off. Cutting me off and screaming "QUIT BULLSHITTING ME!" became an art form in the 10-15 minutes that followed. I then went up to the classroom my stuff was in, and both of my teachers from 6th grade, as well as two other teachers that I had been a student assisstant for, were standing there as if they were plotting to kill me. On my way to the room, however, I did one of the dumbest things, and quite possibly THE dumbest thing, I've ever done. I told him that I did it and that I had taken ecstacy just to try and get out of there faster and get to the hospital. I also knew that I ran the HUGE risk of getting arrested, and this was the most risky thing I had ever attempted. And unbelievably enough...it WORKED! I got out of the school faster and was able to go to the hospital. The dumbest strategy that I had for trying to get the hell out of there, and it WORKED! Unbelievable may be an understatement. However, the interrogations continued back at the school, as SEVEN OTHER PEOPLE, MAniac included, were questioned/interrogated. They included everyone in the EHWF who went to Ben Hill. Meanwhile, I was at the hospital, where I gladly took a drug test, and passed easily without a single sign of drugs in my system. Mad Dog also had a drug test taken, and the results were...NEGATIVE?! This meant that absolutely no drugs whatsoever were involved in the incident. Everyone was off the hook...except the idiots that interrogated the people, that is. From what I know, shortly after the school day ended, my dad went down to the school and absolutely bitched them out about it, shoving the test results in their faces. They damn well deserved it after what 8 people went through that day. I stayed at the house that evening, sending out a mass e-mail to everyone that I knew, describing the entire incident, and naming names, just like I am here. That night, it was revealed that it was a stroke that had taken place. Wow, drugs and a stroke, what similarities (end sarcasm). The next day, MAniac and I were absolutely flooded by people asking questions and wanting answers. Needless to say, that day wasn't easy to get through, because there was zero privacy until I got out of the building. We had all gained publicity all right, but not in the way that any of us wanted to. Of course, the next day, one of the main assisstant principals, Barbara Ragin, who I believe to be a black racist, was telling people "that is NOT to be talked about in school." Of course not, because then, that would ruin her perfect little reputation, wouldn't it? It would mean that herself, Linda Brink, and Jesse Collins were WRONG. *Gasp*, the dread they must have felt! Anyway, a notice was sent out to every teacher in the school clarifying the situation, and speaking of Linda Brink, she was so humiliated by this incident that she quit her job at the school the following day. She vanished, never to return. However, I also later found out that Linda Brink was a woman who used to work with my mom when I was 2 or 3 years old. Unbelieveable. She knew my parents when I was a toddler, and she knew what they were like, and she still dragged me into this shit. She's gonna die a slow, horrible death one day and burn in Hell for all eternity.
Now, a stroke. I did a little research, and here's what WebMD defines a stroke as: "A stroke occurs when a blood vessel (artery) that supplies blood to the brain bursts or is blocked by a blood clot. Within minutes, the nerve cells in that area of the brain become damaged and die. As a result, the part of the body controlled by the damaged section of the brain cannot function properly." To see more about what causes strokes, the warning signs and symtoms of a stroke, how a stroke is treated, and the potential aftermath of a stroke, click here. Drugs, my ass. I don't give a damn if those three motherfuckers die.
Speaking of Mad Dog, he is better known today as Freedom Rock, and his website is right here.
Back to the dating scene, I liked people, but never really had it in me to ask out anyone. So partially because of that, I resorted to Internet dating. I was a member of www.pogo.com in November 2001, and I wanted to meet someone. I got a response from a girl named Bailey, who said she was 13 years old and was from the small town of 7,000-8,000 people, Forest City, NC (the town's name was once removed by request, but it was reposted after I realized that this is my site, I can "burn" who I want to, and this is ridiculous). Is she REALLY afraid that one of my readers is gonna track her down or something? Her and I eventually began a "long-distance relationship," and we really hit it off. As time (and 2002) went on, I took the relationship very seriously. After all, in my desperate position, and with how much I "loved" her, who the hell wouldn't? I even told all my friends, and even so-called "friends" about the whole thing, and I was doing great. However, in May 2002, at a time that was supposed to be the peak, the time that I would supposedly rise above everyone else, and JUST before the end of middle school, everything went to Hell.
It was Saturday, May 11, 2002, and Bailey and I were talking at www.games.com, a place that I had been talked into joining. It had been nearly seven months since the "relationship" started, and I seemingly "loved" her more than ever. However, it all changed on this day. At the end of the conversation, just before she left, she told me that she had lied about her age, and said that she was actually 13, not 14. OK, nothing HUGE, I thought, until the next day, that is. The following day, back on games.com, I was talking to Bailey again, when I said, "I sure as hell wouldn't want an 11 year-old. If I had one, I would kill myself." This comment was the deathnail, as she then replied, "well, you had one." She then said that she was TWO years younger than she had origianlly told me. Now, THIS was a little too much. She was 11 when I met her, and now she was 12, and not 13 when I met her and now 14? This was insane, but for some reason, I just couldn't let go of the relationship. Maybe that's exactly what should have happened, as another shocking turn of events took place on Wednesday, May 15, 2002. This time, she informed me that she had asked out another guy by the name of Codey, and if he said yes the next day, it was over. He said yes, and it was over. I was PISSED, and she went on about how I was "boring" and how I "didn't care." I then went on a tirade, even though it probably wasn't quite as good as it would be today, saying things such as, "what the fuck am I supposed to do, send you a dozen roses every damn day of my life? I'm not even there to see you, dammit, what do you expect from me?" and "you're gonna be sorry as hell when I'm more famous than you could ever imagine while you're lying on your back with a 500-pound fat-ass on top of you, AND NO MONEY, HOME, CAR, OR JOB!" She still said that I didn't care (reader beware: The comments were seriously retarted), and it was all over now. Well, the next day, Friday, May 17, 2002, was the day of a huge 8th Grade field trip, and a major "dance" that night, both of which my friends and I were attending. I eventually brought up the whole break-up, and spent almost the whole night at the dance thinking about her. What a period of hell it was for me. This just put more stress on me as time went on. Still, I finished middle school, and I was out of that fucking hellhole for good and forever, and NEVER to return, at least to this point, and probably never will. Another HUGE problem, however, was the fact that this was several people's last memory of me, and no matter how long they knew me, I'm desperately hoping that this won't always be their clearest memory of me. There was a lot more to me than that, and I hope that they understand, even though they'll probably NEVER see this website, and will probably never see me, or even contact me, again.
I spent the whole damn summer dealing with Bailey and her friends, who did nothing but say random, stupid bullshit to me until 3:00 every morning. Another period of Hell for me, and I was fed up with it. In October 2002, despite knowing that I had a half-sister that had killed herself in July 2001 at the age of 20, Bailey got pissed at something or another that I did or said, and PRETENDED TO COMMIT SUICIDE, and even having her "brother" tell me that she was dead, just to see what I would say. I hardly ever believed it, however, but the act was still about as distasteful as going to a major event in Dallas, Texas (such as a Cowboys game) and bragging about how President John F. Kennedy was shot in November of 1963, and taking a shit and pissing on the world's largest J.F.K. banner while stading on a platform on the 50 yard line.
I started high school in August 2002, going to Gaither High School. Soon after, I got rid of trying to be popular OR ghetto, as I gave up trying to have a life and rap music at the same time. In June 2002, the EHWF became THW (Tampa Hardcore Wrestling), and I ditched "Rapid" for good, and "repackaged" myself as Big Red, which was the new version of my real-life self, a dude with no life. This is a hell of a lot more fun than Rapid, and I had a great time with it. However, very soon (as of 12/23/03), I'm having my last backyard wrestling match, and I'm "retiring" from backyard wrestling's "squared circle," or ring, as an 8-time World Champion. Back to 9th Grade, the pressures of trying to get a life were gone forever. My life was better than it had been in years. However, the world of people bullshitting me and screwing with me was NOT quite over.
The year 2003 was breezing by, with me going through the year not doing nothing much of anything. However, at the beginning of September 2003 (now in 10th Grade), Mark (MAniac) was going to the Citrus Park Mall, along with a girl named Amber. Amber brought a girl named Stacy with her, so Mark wanted to take someone along himself. So who else did he ask but me, the person who lived just two blocks away and was willing to do it. I went along, and expected virtually NOTHING to come out of it. However, Stacy and I began to "hit it off" so to speak, as I was a little hesitant, but eventually, I caught onto it and had a hell of a time. I went to Daytona Beach that weekend and couldn't stop thinking about her, and I had to talk to her again. I eventually did, and her and I became great friends (not going out, though). We met again for a second time at a football game between Gaither and King, another Hillsborough County high school. It was another great night, and I was ready to ask her out. Now, I know I said earlier that I didn't have the balls to ask anyone out, but that was then, this is now. I started to ask her out one night in late September, but she then stopped me and said that we needed to get to know each other better. Four days later, however, she began going out with the other person who liked her, a guy by the name of Austin, who use to be Austin Van Dam, or "AVD," in the EHWF. I, and especially other people, seriously thought that I had been played throughout this whole thing. There was another night, Friday, October 3, 2003 to be exact, that there was another football game at Gaither. This time, Stacy went with Austin and a few other friends. Mark and I met up with them and became one big group, as Stacy and Austin were together. As the night progressed, things were an absolute disaster, as Austin came close to leaving multiple times throughout the night, but ended up not leaving, which really pissed me off. Another thing was that as many times as Stacy was on her knees for Austin and as many times as they were going back and fourth during the seemingly love/hate relationship, the rest of the large group was verbally attacking Austin mercilessly behind his back, myself included. They finally left the game together, and the conversation later that night was also horrible, doing nothing but make things worse for me. And yet another problem that existed during this time era was something that was said by Stacy, not only on October 3, 2003, but one other time about a month later as well, at the time where I was about ready to be done with the whole thing (the first time). It was the comment, "I'm happy with Austin, why can't you be happy for me?" Or maybe this one: "If you were a good friend, you would be happy for us." Well, guess what, Ray Charles, I guess you couldn't see what Mark and I had been saying THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME about him. Did you think I was making up lies just to give me an edge over him? Hell no, and NOW you know it, but it's too late, cause I won't be with you, EVER. As I was saying, telling me that she was still happy with Austin was the worst, and I really mean ABSOLUTE WORST thing that she could have POSSIBLY told me EITHER time she said it. And I can't belive that after the October 3 conversation, I actually told her the next day that I was sorry for making her feel bad. To this day, I still can't believe I did that. I retract all apologies. I was fighting over this whole thing for nearly two months overall, and one night, in another strange twist of events, she told me "you never asked me out." I then reminded her that I had once started to, but SHE was the one who stopped me. The following excerpt is from November 1, 2003, with Stacy's screen name edited out for protection purposes.
By this point, an obvious question should come up, and that is: Why the hell is this guy who's not rich, not famous, and has no life telling his whole life story? Well, the answer is simple, besides the fact that I have absolutely nothing better to do. The first reason is because I've been wanting to do it for a long-ass time just to finally let out the real story of myself to friends and strangers alike. Secondly, however, I'm also telling this story to tell whoever reads this page to stay away from the bullshit that I've had, and that anyone can lie to you or backstab you at any point in time. My life isn't the worst one out there, but I do see a purpose in this story. Not to cause any tension between friends, family, or anyone else, but who knows? Maybe there's that small chance that your best friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, the person that you like, a neighbor, a distant relative, or even a member of your immediate family could be planning to stab you in the back RIGHT NOW. That's my final message regarding that.
Besides that, most of my life is good today, and I no longer talk to Stacy, I no longer want to be her boyfriend (I was never officially with her by the way), and I no longer interfered with her and Austin's relationship. That stopped shortly before I turned 16 on 11/25/03. Since then, however, as of 2/8/04, Austin and Stacy's relationship recenetly ended because her mom, yes, HER OWN MOM, made them break up. Classic stuff. I have seen Stacy's three journal pages, though, but without authorization from her, I won't publicly link the sites. (If you REALLY want it, then please e-mail me and I'll happily send you the link privately). What's REALLY amazing about this entire thing, however, is that now she knows the whole truth, openly calls Austin a "compulsive liar," and says that she'll regret this stuff for the rest of her life. She really catches on quickly, doesn't she? Good going, eternal fuckup. No time machine currently exists that can change what you did. You're nothing but an attention whore and a drama queen. If you want this shit in your life, watch "Days of Our Lives" and stay out of other people's lives. You've annoyed the hell out of people long enough and you've changed enough lives just to have some form of drama in your life to last a lifetime. Go to Hell. And finally, will there EVER be 100% full forgiveness for everything that Bailey and Stacy ever did? Really, how can there be? No matter how long ago it was, these incidents, especially the first one, had a MAJOR impact on my life. Stacy told me many times that I deserve the best, and that things didn't seem right when she was dating Austin, but bigger questions lie ahead, and have also stuck with me in the past, present, and future, and those are: Who will give me the best? Who could possibly do it? And why know, and even publicly acknowledge that something's wrong, and never act upon it? Well, seeing what my past looks like, it sure wasn't any of these people that gave me the best. I guess the only person that has given me the best in life has to be myself. I'm one of the only people who have been there for me 24/7/365 for 16 years. My family (both immediate and extended) has done a lot for me also, but I have to give the edge to me, myself, and I. Why didn't these people see me in a better light before it was too late? These two have apologized up and down, time and time again, but as Stacy recenetly told me, "forgiveness doesn't really count these days." That's one thing she's said to me that can be seen as completely true. It was the past, the mistakes, that counted and mattered the most. A lot of people say, "forget about the past." Well, at least for now, the past can NEVER be changed. The past is full of real, actual events and occurances of things that happened and things that people did and said to other people. Are they to be thrown in the garbage and forgotten, just because someone changed or because someone swears up and down that their sorry? Forgiveness exisits, but so does the past, and it makes the forgiveness part a hell of a lot harder, knowing that these events actually happened, and that these people actually did them at one time or another. Proving change and/or sorrow within yourself to an outside mind, especially mine, is one of the hardest things that anyone can ever do. I'm "Big Red," and that's the no-bullshit, tell-it-like-it-is story of my life. And in closing, I must say one last message: To everyone who ever screwed me over, look at your lives now. Like they say and as my life story proves, history really is written by the winners. I am OUT.
UPDATE (12/13/04): Yes, I know that a lot of this stuff is centered around teenage drama, which I can't stand. But it used to be a huge part of my life, and this is a life story, you know.
