By: Scott Schmidt
Jordan Wakeboardin’
The legend lives on
From Lake Wausau on down,
Of the young man known only as Jordan.
With his Daddy’s jet boat
And a coil of rope,
You could always see Jordan Wakeboardin’.
Pulled across a lake,
He could skip off a wake,
And do tricks worthy of a Museum.
Spinning around,
He could flip upside down,
And amaze all the people who’d see him.
One day on the fly,
Jordan looked to the sky,
And saw a Tornado beside him.
Jordan knew then,
This would be the day when,
He would jump on that Twister and ride him.
He leaned in to a turn,
Felt his arm muscles burn,
As he launched himself off of the water.
They cut the rope loose,
Jordan tied up a noose,
Threw it at the Tornado and caught’er.
Using all of his might,
Jordan kept the rope tight,
And thought no ride could ever be finer.
They flew up so high,
Jordan looked in the eyes,
Of the passengers on a Jet Liner.
The Tornado twisted,
It howled, and roared,
Tried to shake off its unwanted rider,
But Jordan persisted,
And stayed on his board,
And got himself sucked up inside her.
Witnesses said
They thought Jordan was dead,
Sucked in and chewed up and eaten,
But Jordan went nuts
In the Vortex’s guts,
And knew that he wouldn’t be beaten.
Soaring inside,
And enjoying the ride,
The Tornado kept trying to wreck him.
When things got too bad,
Jordan got Hockey Mad,
And that’s when he laid back and checked him.
The force of that blow,
Laid the Tornado low,
And Jordan burst out to his freedom.
The Tornado swore,
It would even the score,
If ever again it should meet him.
When Jordan just smiled,
The Tornado went wild,
Its tantrum made onlookers wonder.
And calling out loud,
As it tore through the clouds,
Jordan said, “Next time, bring Thunder!”
The legend lives on,
From Lake Wausau on down,
Of the young man known only as Jordan.
Tornados, they say,
Never more come this way,
If they can see Jordan Wakeboardin.’
The End
Scott Schmidt
