Born in Nashville, Tennessee on the 2nd of September 1985, little Richard always dreamed of becoming the most famous NASCAR driver in the United States of America. Ricky seemed to speed through life, but nothing really interested him at all, that is until his father bought him a mini dirt bike at the age of 6 and Ricky was obsessed. He rode that mini dirt bike every day, all day, until the he turned 12, when his father bought him a Quad Bike. 4 Wheels was perfect for Ricky, he felt so at home. Ricky began racing his friends and other boys around the neighbourhood on his quad bike for a few years, he would win every single race. One day, while his parents were asleep, Ricky went and stole his parent's vehicle. He thought driving it would be ten times the fun of driving a quad bike, and boy was he right. He took off in the night, wheels screeching through the city dodging and weaving through traffic... That night, Ricky Roberts fell in love. Ricky continued to take his parent's vehicle out for midnight runs all over Tennessee. He would speed through the streets of Nashville, fly through the Great Smoky Mountains, Soar over the Tennessee River and all while looking into applying to become an amateur NASCAR driver. When he was 15, he would succeed and find himself training to become a professional NASCAR driver.
It would be a long and tedious process to train to be a NASCAR driver, but Ricky knew he had to be the best, it wasn't going to be easy. But as far as the other amateurs, Ricky would often feel like a Bull in a pig pen, more often than not embarrassed by how bad he would beat them, but soon after his embarrassment was put the rest when he was chosen to be a racer at the professional NASCAR level.
Ricky began to travel around The Carolinas, West Virginia, Iowa and of course Tennessee participating in all races and of course coming out on top. Life was good for this man, but just as Ricky thought he had achieved all he wanted to achieve he got word of a new Cup that would give him the esteemed Sponsor of A-1 Steak Sauce. Ricky was determined. He trained day and night bringing in any resource he had on hand to train him for this challenge. Of course, after many races and many trying times, Ricky Roberts was the recipient of the Charm Cup and given the A-1 Steak Sauce sponsorship, what an honour.
Ricky went on to race for many years, staying on top and becoming a respected figure in American popular culture, but for some reason he was never content with this. Ricky wanted to do something big, he just wasn't sure what this would be. After a family vacation to Russia where he was surprised that people seemed to recognize him and surround him for photographs/autographs he knew exactly what he must do. Ricky Roberts would bring NASCAR to Russia.
Ricky definitely wasn't familiar with Russia, which was a problem as he felt his familiarity with Tennessee helped him in his NASCAR domination in the States. Ricky knew exactly what he would do; he would take his vehicle and drive it all across Russia with his pit crew following closely in a van the whole way, it may take years, but he would do it until he could navigate Russian roads like he was driving to the gas station to fetch some jerky. And that he did, Ricky started in Moscow and drove North, all the way to St. Petersburg, then south along the Slavic border countries, until he reached Krasnodar. By now, Ricky had gathered quite a bit of attention in Russia and back home in the States, so it wasn't unusual when he turned up in a town for the people to be there waiting for him. However his blessing turned out to be a curse when he left Krasnodar and as he turned a corner a large bang came from below deck and made him lose control of his vehicle. Ricky crashed into a pole and totaled the vehicle. Totally disorientated, he stumbles out of his vehicle and barely gets to his feet, taking one good look at his beautiful NASCAR. A tear formed as Ricky looked mournfully at his once beautiful vehicle, but his silence was interrupted by foot steps coming from behind him. Ricky turned quickly 'cause he had reflexes like a cat, but could only catch sight of a man dressed head to toe in green army gear with a mask on launches the butt of his rifle into Ricky's face.
He awoke in the back cabin of some military vehicle that was unknown to him, surrounded by green men. "Look who's waking up over there", one of them says. "Well howdy there fellas", Ricky says as all men turn their heads to him. "I would say it's a pleasure 'ta make 'yer acquaintance but I dunno if that's particularly true". The men just look at him, not saying a word. "Well, I'm guessin' by the accent y'all must be Russians-", he is interrupted by the laughter of the men. "Russians? You're calling us Russians?", one man retorts. "Well I crashed outside a town in Russia, so what am I 'ta assume?". "Have you ever heard of Chernarus?", one of the green men asks. "Naw, can't say I have", Ricky says while looking around at the men. "Well," one man says, "It's a little country south of where we picked you up, you are a famous man Mr. Ricky, we think our cause could use a man of your notoriety." Ricky looks past the men to a small window on the side of the vehicle and sees the motion of passing trees. "So are we in that country now?". "Yes, we are, in fact we just crossed the Russian border and we're somewhere south of a little town called Krasnosta-", the man is interrupted by an even louder bang than before as the vehicle they are in is thrown and flipped violently. Thankfully, one of these nice green men broke Ricky's fall so he wasn't hurt too much, as he looks up he notices a hole in the vehicle big enough that he could squeeze through. Most of the green men looked unconscious or worse by now, but Ricky noticed a few of the men trying to regain consciousness so he darted for the hole and began to squeeze his way through. Ricky falls from the vehicle and shoots up quickly, looking around him. He sees a lot of trees, and a small country road. Suddenly movement comes from the trees across the road as men begin to emerge, so Ricky turns the other direction and sprints into the trees, moving as fast as his little southern legs would carry him. Ricky spent a day or two wondering the forests, until he stumbled upon a little wood cabin in a small clearing. He ran in to seek shelter not even thinking about if someone may be inside, but of course there wasn't. He found enough food to bury a cow, enough water to drown Aunt Miley, a hatchet, a wood burning stove to keep him warm and a radio. Ricky sat in the cabin and listened to the radio, learning about the situation this country was in, learning it's people's struggles and what they faced. Ricky felt a connection with the country, and any thought he had of escaping through the northern border to get away to Russia again was almost completely gone - not that he could have anyway, with the talk of this new infection that had been spreading in the past week the country's border was locked down as he sat in the cabin. The radio explained how the infection spread, where it was spreading to, and the disgusting acts the infected were doing. The people of Chernarus couldn't get a break, and Ricky felt their spirit breaking. After just under 2 weeks Ricky's supplies started to run low, so Ricky made up his mind on what he'd do. With the skills he had acquired over his career in NASCAR, his new hatchet, a little bit of food and water, and a whole lotta enthusiasm and dedication, he would fight the infection and bring together the people of Chernarus no matter what their politics. He walked out of the cabin he had been hiding in and ran into the forest again.
Check out this thread to see the almost-daily journal of Ricky Roberts.