Women's trick podium at the 2025 BOTASKI ProAm

What Does It Take to Beat Erika Lang? Ask Neilly Ross

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What does it take to beat Erika Lang? Ask Neilly Ross

Women's trick podium at the 2025 BOTASKI ProAm

Image: @erikalang36

By Jack Burden


SESEÑA, Spain — In the sweltering summer sun of central Spain, the 2025 BOTASKI ProAm may have just delivered the most dramatic women’s trick final in living memory — and perhaps the most significant result yet in the escalating rivalry between Erika Lang and Neilly Ross.

For most of the weekend, it looked like another Erika Lang masterclass. In the preliminary round, she tricked 11,450 points — her third pending world record in just two months. No woman had ever scored higher in any competition, professional or amateur. And yet, by the end of the weekend, Lang didn’t win.

Neilly Ross did.

The 24-year-old Canadian, who hadn’t beaten Lang or Anna Gay in a professional event in over three years, delivered a flawless final. Her score: 11,430 — tying the official world record she set last year and throwing down the gauntlet in what is becoming the defining rivalry of modern trick skiing.

That single moment flipped the script. For Lang to win, she would need another world record — not just to match her earlier performance, but to do it again, under pressure, with the title on the line.

She very nearly did.

Lang landed every big trick, running the same sequence that earned her 11,450 just a day earlier. But somewhere, in the dying seconds of a near-perfect hand pass, a minor sideslide — worth just 40 points — drew scrutiny. Judges ruled it incomplete. Her score dropped to 11,410. Twenty points short. Game over.

In any other era, 11,410 might have stood as a world record. At BOTASKI, it wasn’t enough to win.

It’s the closest a pro final has come to the world record since 2002, when Emma Sheers and Elena Milakova traded jumps — and history — at the Malibu Open. In a fitting parallel, the records and rivalry from that event helped define the next decade.

That the trick final even stole the spotlight is a story in itself. BOTASKI, now in its seventh edition, once again opted out of Waterski Pro Tour status — a decision that may have cost it international buzz. But with this final, it delivered a legacy moment anyway.

And perhaps, a changing of the guard.

Ross’s win doesn’t erase Lang’s dominance — not even close. Lang has won virtually everything over the past three seasons and turned scores once thought unreachable into something approaching routine. But the weight of this victory — Ross tying her own world record, beating Lang head-to-head, and ending a years-long drought — matters heading into the World Championships in August.

Frustratingly, this will be the last pro trick event before Worlds — a jarring contrast to the momentum the discipline has built in recent months. No more finals. No more record attempts. Just the long wait until Labor Day weekend, when Lang and Ross will meet again with a world title on the line and the rivalry entering its most anticipated chapter yet.

While the Lang-Ross showdown took top billing, the rest of the BOTASKI ProAm delivered its share of fireworks.

Jake Abelson continued his breakout season with another major win in men’s tricks, landing three scores over 12,400 — the kind of consistency once unimaginable. He held off Patricio Font, who also tricked over 12,000 in both prelims and finals, in what’s quietly becoming the premier head-to-head battle in men’s tricking.

In slalom, Jaimee Bull and Freddie Winter both looked untouchable, each picking up another win in what’s shaping into a dominant season. For Winter, it adds another notch to what may be one of the greatest injury comebacks in the sport’s history. For Bull, it reinforces her status as the most complete slalom skier on the women’s side — and continues her undefeated run through the European professional summer.

It’s rare for trick skiing to hold the spotlight this long. In a sport where slalom typically dominates coverage and prize money, the Lang-Ross rivalry has done more than bring attention back to tricks — it’s made it must-watch. Not just because of the scores, but because of the stakes. The pressure. The emotion.

Lang remains the most successful woman in trick skiing’s modern era. But for the first time in years, she has a rival who can match her, beat her, and push the sport forward in a new direction.

If this is what trick skiing can look like — tense, technical, thrilling — then maybe the question isn’t whether it deserves more attention.

Maybe the question is: why did it take this long?

“It’s Just Skiing”: Carter Eaton’s Cross-Country Crusade to Change the Sport

YouTube Series Captures the Highs and Lows of Pro Water Skiing

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Carter Eaton’s It’s Just Skiing captures the highs and lows of professional water skiing

“It’s Just Skiing”: Carter Eaton’s Cross-Country Crusade to Change the Sport

Image: @arthur_sayanoff

By Jack Burden


In a sport obsessed with buoys, boat settings, and breaking 41 off, Carter Eaton is chasing something else entirely.

He’s not a world champion. Not a 10.25m regular. Not backed by a major boat brand. But Eaton — an Alaskan-born skier with a DIY van and a camera in hand — is quietly becoming one of the most compelling characters in professional water skiing.

His YouTube series, It’s Just Skiing, now 17 episodes deep, documents an audacious, improbable mission: compete in every pro slalom tournament he qualifies for in 2025. From a distance, it looks like a feel-good side quest. Up close, it’s a test of endurance — mental, physical, emotional — offering a raw, unfiltered look at what it really takes to chase a professional dream in a sport that barely pays.

You see the breakdowns. The van repairs. The homesickness. The missed openers. The joy of running 39 for the first time in a record tournament. And yes, the self-doubt — the kind few athletes show publicly, let alone on camera.

“I’ve been on the road since April… I’m around the world alone… I wanted to go to Morocco so bad,” Eaton confesses in a recent video. “But you know what? Ski better. If you ski good enough, you get to go to every tournament.”

That kind of honesty is rare in water skiing — a sport so tight-knit it often feels allergic to vulnerability. Eaton is the antidote.

His recent uploads span much of the European leg of the season — from Monaco to Dommartin — with pit stops at the Colosseum, some of Europe’s most scenic ski sites, and a few late-night monologues that wouldn’t feel out of place in a sports documentary. In one of the series’ most striking moments, after a rough tournament, Eaton delivers this:

“I’m going to fail and fail and fail, but I’m going to succeed. The skiing is only a little bit of that success… I want to show the world what this sport is. But nothing worthwhile has ever been easy.”

That mantra underpins the entire project. Eaton isn’t just skiing for himself. He’s trying to prove that water skiing — despite its barriers, niche audience, and lack of mainstream polish — can still be captivating. That it deserves to be seen. That it doesn’t have to be perfect to be powerful.

In a landscape where the spotlight mostly shines on winners, Eaton’s story resonates for a different reason: he’s doing what many wish they could. Not winning it all. Not turning a profit. But showing up anyway. Chasing the dream.

That may not make him a “pro” in the traditional sense. But in 2025, being a professional athlete is about more than just scores and sponsorships. It’s about connection. Storytelling. Having a voice.

Winning is only enough in a handful of sports — and water skiing isn’t one of them. Even top athletes in much larger sports often only scrape by, prize money split between travel expenses and training costs. The ones who truly thrive are the ones who build something more: a brand, a following, a reason for fans — and sponsors — to care.

It’s why names like Joel Poland, Neilly Ross, and Freddie Winter resonate far beyond their results. Yes, they’re elite competitors. But their influence doesn’t come solely from buoy counts. Poland and Ross have cultivated huge social media followings, turning short-form edits and behind-the-scenes clips into brand assets. Winter, meanwhile, is seemingly everywhere — from podcasts to TWBC interviews to mushroom-based elixir docuseries.

And then there’s the logical next step: creators like Marcus Brown and Rob Hazelwood, who’ve realized that content creation isn’t just a side hustle. It’s the job. They’re telling stories, shaping narratives, and showing fans what life in this sport actually looks like — beyond the scoreboard.

And then there’s Eaton. No entourage. No script. Just a skier with a dream, a camera, and something to prove — not just to the world, but to himself.

“There are other people that will change the sport forever with how good they are at skiing. That won’t be me,” he says. “But I’m going to change the sport forever.”

Maybe that’s hyperbole. Maybe not. Either way, the view count is rising. The story is unfolding. And we’re watching.

Because at its heart, this isn’t just about results. It’s about believing that the journey — rough, weird, unfinished — is worth sharing.

Win or lose. Succeed or fail. After all — it’s just skiing.

Ski Nautique 2026

IWWF Rejects 2026 Ski Nautique for Worlds, Citing Fairness and Timing

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IWWF rejects 2026 Ski Nautique for Worlds, citing fairness and timing

Ski Nautique 2026

Image: @nautiqueboats

By Jack Burden


The IWWF World Waterski Council has unanimously rejected Nautique’s late-stage proposal to debut its newly announced 2026 Ski Nautique at this year’s World Championships in Recetto, Italy.

The request came just days after Nautique unveiled its next-generation towboat — a lighter, sharper redesign billed as an “evolution of a true icon.” With flatter wakes, a refined hull, and integrated Zero Off enhancements, the 2026 model is being positioned as a new benchmark in three-event performance. Early impressions from Team Nautique athletes and independent skiers alike have been glowing, with slalomers praising “drastically better wakes” and reduced speed drop out of the turn.

But when Nautique Vice President Brian Sullivan made the pitch during a Masters meeting with IWWF President Jose Antonio, the council’s response was cautious. According to minutes from the May 29 meeting, delegates from all regions agreed the change would unfairly disadvantage athletes outside the U.S., particularly in Oceania and Latin America, where access to the new boat in time for training was unlikely.

“The new boat is completely different, making it unfair for athletes,” said athlete rep Valentina Gonzales, noting that many skiers would have just “two passes (official familiarization) to test the new boat before the Worlds.”

Though Nautique offered to ship three boats to Europe within a week, council members pointed out that large parts of the world — and much of the athlete field — would be left without meaningful prep time.

Athlete chair Martin Kolman was more blunt: if Nautique wanted the boat used at Worlds, “they should have informed the waterski community in a timely manner.” Instead, the request came days after the launch — and just three months before the sport’s flagship event.

For now, the current Ski Nautique — introduced in 2019 and entering its final year of production — will remain in use. And while that may frustrate some, it aligns with the spirit of fair play: the playing field must come first.

Whether Nautique misread the timing or bet too heavily on post-launch momentum, one thing is clear — for all the engineering ambition the new boat represents, it arrived a season too late.

And perhaps, with more riding on this launch than meets the eye. Nautique’s long-held position as the exclusive towboat supplier for IWWF events is set to expire at the end of the year. Rumors have surfaced that Malibu — long absent from the international scene — could take over the contract beginning in 2026. If true, the 2026 Ski Nautique may never get the chance to pull a World Championships.

That’s not just a missed debut. It’s a boatload of R&D with nowhere to run.

Hanna Straltsova world record

Straltsova Edges Past Longest-Standing Record in Water Skiing

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Straltsova edges past longest-standing record in water skiing

Hanna Straltsova world record

Image: @skifluid

By Jack Burden


POLK CITY, FL — The longest-standing world record in waterskiing might have just fallen—by the narrowest margin in history.

At the Bill Wenner Memorial Record tournament in central Florida this weekend, reigning world overall and jump champion Hanna Straltsova quietly assembled a near-flawless performance: 5 buoys at 11.25 meters (38’ off), 8,890 points in tricks, and a 59.8-meter (196 ft) jump. Combined, her scores yielded an overall total of 2,581.4—just 0.3 points beyond the mark Natallia Berdnikava set back in 2012.

If ratified, it would not only end a 13-year reign, but also stand as the smallest margin by which a world overall record has ever been broken.

Straltsova, a former Belarusian who now skis for the United States and trains at Bennett’s Ski School in Louisiana, has long been one of the most promising athletes in the sport. Since Jacinta Carroll’s retirement, she’s dominated jump. But this weekend may have marked her most complete performance yet—one built not on one standout moment, but on balance, precision, and timing across all three events.

Berdnikava’s 2012 mark—3@11.25m, 9,740 points, and a 58.0m (190′) jump—became a benchmark that defined a generation. For over a decade, it resisted every challenger. Straltsova came closest—not with explosive trick scores or a record-breaking jump, but with just enough across the board.

Still, her record-setting effort was nearly lost in the noise.

At the same event, 17-year-old Jake Abelson tricked over 13,000 points twice, possibly signaling a new era for men’s trick skiing. But Straltsova’s accomplishment—subtler, steadier—may prove just as historic.

After years of dominance in one event, she’s now proven herself capable of rewriting the totals, too. And in a sport where overall skiing has sometimes taken a back seat to individual-event spectacle, that matters.

Thirteen years. A third of a point. A new name at the top.

Trick Skiing’s 13,000-Point Barrier Just Got Smashed

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Trick Skiing’s 13,000-Point Barrier Just Got Smashed

World record holder Jake Abelson

Image: Johnny Hayward

By Jack Burden


POLK CITY, FL — There was a time when 13,000 points in men’s trick skiing felt like a myth. A ceiling. A number whispered with admiration but dismissed with realism. This weekend, Jake Abelson achieved the unthinkable.

On a hot June weekend at Ski Fluid in central Florida, Abelson tricked 13,020 points in the first round of the Bill Wenner Memorial Record tournament. It was a staggering score—one that broke the world record, pending ratification. The next round, he went out and did it again. This time: 13,270.

In a sport where progress inches forward, he had just taken a leap.

In its early decades, the world record climbed by a thousand points every few years—1975, ’77, ’79, ’81, and ’84 each saw new milestones breached as Cory Pickos took the sport over the threshold of 10,000. But as the level of difficulty increased and the stopwatch refused to budge from its 20-second window, progress slowed. From there, each new thousand took longer to fall—six years to reach 11,000 in 1990, another 11 to reach 12,000 in 2001. But 13,000? That mark seemed out of reach. Until now.

From 2005 to 2022, only two men’s world records were ratified—170 total points of progress in 17 years. Trick skiing was often called the most stagnant of the three events. Then came a renaissance, kicked off in late 2022 by Mexico’s Patricio Font, who broke Aliaksei Zharnasek’s 11-year-old record. In the span of 18 months, the event transformed from glacial to white-hot.

That sudden acceleration in progression? It didn’t come from nowhere.

No one embodies that shift more than Jake Abelson.

Abelson is 17. His dad was an elite-level trick skier. His mom? A Junior Masters champion and a regular on the pro slalom and trick scene in the 2000s. His cousin is Patricio Font. He’s a second-generation athlete with deep family ties to the sport—raised with access to the best coaches, the best equipment, and the best ski sites in the world. His story isn’t one of accidental talent. It’s one of purposeful design.

What separates Abelson isn’t just his résumé. It’s the way he blends nearly every key ingredient that defines the modern trick skiing elite.

He has the raw power and strength of Zharnasek, enabling him to throw audacious tricks like wake-seven-front-to-front and ski-line-seven-back-to-back. He has the speed and precision of Font, unlocking the ability to squeeze in one more trick before the 20-second buzzer. And perhaps most importantly, he skis with the quiet poise of a gymnast who’s spent years training for perfection under pressure.

That’s not just metaphor. Jake still competes as a level 10 gymnast. Like Erika Lang, who transferred her tumbling background into becoming one of the greatest women’s trickers of all time, Abelson has brought aerial awareness and body control into a sport that now demands both in spades.

“In trick skiing, the goal is to perform as many high scoring tricks as possible in 20 seconds,” he said. “At a high level, more speed is required to add another trick or upgrade a preexisting one.”

Abelson spent last winter hammering one trick over and over—wake-seven-front-to-front, a brutally difficult 800-point move with a 720-degree spin and two handle passes. By April’s Swiss Pro Tricks, he could land it cleanly and on time, without derailing the rest of the run. In May 2024, he nearly broke 13,000 at a Masters Qualifier, missing the mark by inches—falling on the last two tricks. It was the proof of concept.

Fast forward to June 2025, and he executed.

But there’s a deeper layer to why this is happening now—and why it might not last forever.

Tricking is, at its core, a race against time. And to move faster, it helps to be lighter.

“You’ve got to look at body types,” said Joel Poland on a recent episode of the Grab Matters podcast. “When you’re smaller, you weigh 130 to 150 pounds, faster is easier. You can go slower with the boat, you can move a little faster. As you become a bigger person, you can keep that speed and learn to go fast—but it definitely gets harder.”

That dynamic makes Abelson’s moment feel especially fleeting and perfectly timed. He has the technical base, the gymnastic strength, the trick lineage—but also, the age and size to make speed work for him, not against him. In a few years, his approach might need to change. For now, it’s the perfect storm.

Abelson is quick to credit others. Matias Gonzalez and Martin Labra, the young Chileans pushing boundaries in toe tricks. Joel Poland, whose creativity and flair have inspired Abelson to explore more ambitious sequences. And Font, who reimagined the hand pass with blistering speed and composure.

As Gonzalez put it: “To consistently trick over 12k, the most important thing [is] to focus on speed,” said the 17-year-old Chilean, who already has multiple professional titles under his belt. “Pato showed that 11 tricks on hands were possible. That set the new standard.”

Abelson echoed the point almost word-for-word, crediting “the increase in speed which was demonstrated by Font” as the catalyst for this new era.

The skiing world was forced to take notice. From 2019 to 2023, Font won two World Championships and eight pro titles—one of the highest winning percentages in the history of modern trick skiing. “His consistency,” Abelson said, “[forced] the other competitors to put more time on the water just to be able to compete.”

Abelson’s rise feels sudden, but the data tells a deeper story. In April 2024, his personal best was 11,980. Then, in the span of one month: six scores over 12,000, including two world records at 12,720 and 12,970. His form in 2025 has been unmatched—winning the Moomba Masters, then the US Masters, and now potentially breaking the world record twice.

His record-setting run wasn’t a spike. It was a detonation—evidence not of a fluke, but of an athlete who’s shifted the benchmark.

And he’s not alone. Gonzalez and Labra are close behind. Louis Duplan-Fribourg of France, the reigning world overall champion, has a personal best over 12,500. Font still looms—consistent, decorated, and hungry.

“We started pushing ourselves to a better level,” said Labra. “Being with Mati [Gonzalez] since we were kids… and after that Jake, it helped me a lot to improve… to try to beat [them], we helped each other to be better.”

But Abelson’s ceiling might be higher still.

He’s not just a phenomenal tricker. He’s emerging as one of the most complete skiers in the world—just named to the 2025 U.S. World Championship team in overall. He skis all three events. He tricks like a specialist. And he’s the first American man to hold the world trick record since Cory Pickos in 2001.

In that sense, Abelson’s moment is bigger than a number. It’s a glimpse of what’s possible: not just in trick, but in the sport as a whole.

The only question now: is this the new ceiling—or just the start of something even bigger?

Brittany Greenwood Wharton jumps at the LA Night Jam

Why the LA Night Jam Left Us in the Dark — Literally and Digitally

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Why the LA Night Jam left us in the dark — literally and digitally

Brittany Greenwood Wharton jumps at the LA Night Jam

Image: @lanightjam

By Jack Burden


Last weekend, some of the world’s best jumpers went soaring under the lights in Zachary, Louisiana. The LA Night Jam had it all: a packed shoreline, festival energy, world champions, rising stars, and Waterski Pro Tour points on the line.

But unless you were there in person, you didn’t see a second of it.

There was no webcast. No slo-mo replays. No expert commentary. No drone shots capturing heroic flight. Just the dry final results, posted to an anachronistic website after the spray had settled—black-and-white numbers standing in for what was, by all accounts, one of the most electric nights of the season.

And for diehard fans like me, that felt like a gut punch.

In the post-COVID era, we’ve grown used to watching every pro event live, for free, from anywhere in the world. The quality of these broadcasts has never been better, thanks in large part to The Waterski Broadcasting Company (TWBC). But cracks are starting to show in that model—and there’s a quiet, potentially growing shift away from relying on livestreams to carry the weight of an event.

Two of the four stops on the 2024 WWS Overall Tour were not broadcast, including the Canada Cup, which doubled as a Waterski Pro Tour jump stop and delivered some of the season’s most thrilling competition. The Fungliss ProAm, with the richest men’s slalom purse of the year, also eschewed a webcast. Even longtime TWBC clients like the Lake 38 ProAm have pivoted to more budget-conscious alternatives for 2025.

Why? Because streaming costs money. And despite loyal viewership, the audience hasn’t really grown. TWBC’s YouTube views have plateaued since 2020. The downgrade of the Swiss Pro Slalom—still the most-watched water ski webcast every year—drives the point home: if the sport’s most visible livestream can’t generate enough sponsor revenue to stay on tour, something’s broken.

Still, many—including me—believe high-quality webcasts are a worthwhile investment. Maybe the audience isn’t there yet. But what better vehicle exists to grow the sport long-term? Who else is grinding to tell skiing’s story with the polish and persistence of TWBC?

That doesn’t mean, though, that every tournament needs to look the same.

The LA Night Jam reminds us there’s another way—one rooted in the past, but maybe just as vital to the future.

Rather than catering to a global digital audience, LA Night Jam pours its resources into the on-site experience. It’s a deliberate throwback—a water ski festival, as event coordinator Tucker Johnson described it in a local TV interview: “It’s fun for the whole family… a pro tournament set up with tons of events around it as well.”

There are trick exhibitions. Slalom head-to-heads. Freestyle skiers. Adorable kids on combos. In one memorable stunt, someone even barefooted out of a hot air balloon. It’s all designed to dazzle the crowd—many of whom arrive knowing nothing about water skiing and leave wanting more.

The funding model reflects that philosophy. Instead of relying on industry sponsors trying to reach a global audience, the event is backed by local businesses. Their website, perhaps vindictively, notes that the “event is not sponsored by MasterCraft Boat Co.”—a nod to the departure of their former headline sponsor and the pivot toward a community-first approach. It’s a stark contrast to the traditional, industry-funded model.

Here, the crowd isn’t just a backdrop. It’s the point.

And LA Night Jam isn’t alone. The 2024 WWS Canada Cup followed a similar formula: local crowd, local sponsors, no webcast. We’ve also praised the King of Darkness for its festival-like atmosphere and crowd engagement—though that event still pairs its in-person spectacle with a top-shelf livestream.

These formats don’t just recycle the same core audience—they expand it. They draw in new families, new eyeballs, and potentially new sponsors. Yes, physical crowds come with constraints—parking, logistics, capacity. But they offer something livestreams haven’t cracked yet: the ability to convert the curious into the committed.

As reigning world champion Freddie Winter put it recently on the TWBC podcast: “We shouldn’t just be skiing in backyard tournaments… getting in front of people is also fantastic.”

Back when waterskiing was booming, it had both—crowds and broadcasts. Passion and reach.

So maybe it’s not about choosing one or the other. Maybe it’s about trying everything, everywhere, all at once. Because if there’s one thing the sport can’t afford right now, it’s to put all its eggs in one basket.

It’s become cliché to quote the line about insanity being doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. But it’s worth reflecting on. TWBC has poured heart and soul into their livestreams. And while their numbers are respectable, they haven’t meaningfully grown in five years. Meanwhile, their side projects like The Unknown Sport of Waterskiing and The Rise of Waterskiing arguably have the greatest potential of breaking through to new audiences.

At the same time, LA Night Jam and others like it are bringing fresh energy, new money, and new eyeballs into the sport—and paying athletes in the process.

With only six pro jump events on the 2025 calendar, every one counts. The fact that LA Night Jam delivered a full purse without a webcast isn’t a failure—it’s a sign of creativity and resilience.

So maybe the real takeaway is this: not everything in waterskiing needs to be built for people like me. Sometimes the best thing we can do for the sport is reach someone who’s never seen it before. Ideally, yes, we’d have both—a packed shoreline and a global livestream. But if resources are limited, I’m glad events are experimenting.

Throw enough at the wall, and something might just stick.

The future of water skiing won’t come from clinging to one tournament model. It will come from daring to try new ways to bring the sport to life.

If that means leaving some fans in the dark—so be it. But if it means lighting up a new generation, then the gamble is worth it.

Erika Lang & Neilly Ross

Lang Chased a Record. Ross Chased the Boys. The Rivalry Is Just Getting Started

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Lang chased a record. Ross chased the boys. The rivalry Is fust getting started

Lang vs. Ross: The Ultimate Showdown

By Jack Burden


This past weekend, one of the sport’s most electric rivalries continued — not in a head-to-head showdown, but on opposite sides of the world.

In California, Erika Lang quietly added another pending world record to her résumé, scoring 11,450 points — equaling the mark she set last month, which is still awaiting IWWF approval. She’s already notched three straight wins in 2025, an unbroken streak that includes Moomba, Swiss Pro Tricks, and the Masters. Just months after losing the record to Canada’s Neilly Ross, Lang has left no doubt: she wants it back — and she wants it badly.

Meanwhile, Ross was in Monaco — a place better known for superyachts and Formula 1 than women’s trick skiing. She’d traveled there expecting to compete in her signature event, only to discover the women’s trick division had been quietly dropped. Rather than pack up and head home, Ross entered the men’s field. No shortcuts, no caveats — just her versus the world’s best male trick skiers.

It didn’t go to plan. She pushed for a massive score, overreached, and landed outside the prize money. A third-place finish in women’s slalom offered some consolation — and helped offset the cost of the trip.

But if the scoreboard favored Lang, the spotlight — such as it exists in professional waterskiing — leaned toward Ross. While Lang was setting records in the back corner of a lake, witnessed only by officials and a handful of skiers, Ross was putting herself on stage. The Monaco Waterski Cup drew fans, sponsors, and some of the sport’s best production value. The risks were high — but so was the visibility.

Both athletes are expected to headline this weekend’s Royal Nautique Pro in Rabat, Morocco. The event promises big prize money, an exotic setting, and a rare chance for direct competition in women’s tricks. The site — a downtown river with excellent spectator access — could produce anything from chaos to classic, depending on conditions.

But the contrast between scoring and competing runs deeper than a single weekend. Lang’s performance in California could trigger a substantial bonus from Nautique — potentially exceeding the entire trick purse at Monaco. She lives and works on the West Coast, holds a full-time job, and turns 30 later this year. Jetting across the globe for every introductory-level event doesn’t make sense — financially or professionally.

Ross, 24, is in a different phase. Fresh out of college, increasingly competitive in slalom, and not yet tethered by the same responsibilities. Her gamble in Monaco wasn’t just bold — it was brand-building. A shot across the bow in a sport still figuring out what the next generation looks like.

And that’s the rub. World records may make great marketing material. But putting yourself out there — in the crucible of competition, under pressure, in public — might actually grow the sport.

Records are impressive. But the real fireworks happen when these two are on the same starting dock, on the same day, with everything on the line.

Regina Jaquess is continuing to dominate into her 40s

Can Anyone Stop This U.S. Team at Worlds?

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Can Anyone Stop This U.S. Team at Worlds?

Regina Jaquess is continuing to dominate into her 40s

Image: USA Waterski

By Jack Burden


The names are in. The roster is set. And for the first time in nearly two decades, Team USA will head to the Open World Championships with a male overall skier in the lineup.

The American Water Ski Association’s International Activities Committee has announced the six athletes who will represent the United States at the 2025 IWWF Open World Championships in Recetto, Italy, from August 26–31:

  • Jake Abelson
  • Aliaksandra Danisheuskaya
  • Kennedy Hansen
  • Regina Jaquess
  • Freddy Krueger
  • Erika Lang

It’s a loaded team—experienced, decorated, and packed with world records—but the headline is 17-year-old Jake Abelson, the first male overall skier selected for Team USA since Jimmy Siemers in 2009. It’s been almost as long as Abelson has been alive.

Since Siemers’ retirement, men’s overall has been America’s Achilles’ heel—despite a steady pipeline of overlooked talent. Abelson, the breakout trick skier of 2025, with rapidly improving jump and reliable slalom scores, could signal a long-overdue shift.

Another standout addition is Aliaksandra Danisheuskaya, the 2021 World Overall Champion—then skiing for Belarus. She’s now under the U.S. banner, having lived and trained stateside for over a decade and recently marrying American jumper Taylor Garcia.

Her inclusion raises eyebrows—not for lack of pedigree, but because of her international path. Danisheuskaya was among a group of Belarusian athletes who switched affiliations after the IWWF banned Russian and Belarusian skiers in response to the war in Ukraine. In 2023, she and Hanna Straltsova competed under the USA Water Ski & Wake Sports (USAWSWS) umbrella in a legal gray zone that blurred nationality rules. With the ban now lifted and new eligibility procedures in place, Danisheuskaya’s spot on Team USA is both official and, from a competitive standpoint, a major asset.

Alongside her are legends still at the top of their game. Regina Jaquess remains an ageless force. Erika Lang is a perennial threat. Freddy Krueger, now in his 50s, continues to fly farther than athletes half his age. And Kennedy Hansen—one of the sport’s best young all-arounders—brings team balance and three-event reliability.

It’s a squad built not just to defend the world team title reclaimed in 2023—but to do it with depth and purpose.

Standing in their way, however, is the most consistently dominant team of the modern era: Canada. Led by Dorien Llewellyn and Paige Rini Pigozzi, their ceiling is as high as any—if their health and form hold. Dorien, once trading records with Joel Poland, is still working back to his best after a major injury. Paige, an elegant slalomer and capable tricker and jumper, hasn’t competed much in overall since the 2023 Worlds.

If they’re sharp, the Canadians will be hard to beat.

France, Great Britain, and Australia are all podium threats as well—though none may have the six-skier depth to match the U.S. or Canada across all events.

But for Team USA, this isn’t just about the podium. This roster represents something bigger: a return to the formula that once made them untouchable. From the 1950s to the early ’90s, the U.S. never lost a team title. Since then, they’ve won just 7 of 17. The gap? Often, it’s been men’s overall.

Jake Abelson might not win gold in Recetto. But his selection is a signal—of belief, of change, of remembering what built a dynasty in the first place.

Team titles aren’t won with six individual stars. They’re won with balance. With skiers who fight for every point in every event. With teams that feel—not just strong—but complete.

This one finally does.

Let the countdown begin.

Centerline Handle by Spray Research

New Tournament-Approved Handle Offers Fresh Take on Water Ski Safety

Media

New tournament-approved handle offers fresh take on water ski safety

Centerline Handle by Spray Research

Image: Spray Research

By Jack Burden


The water ski handle hasn’t changed much in decades—but a new option from Spray Research is quietly challenging that status quo.

Officially launched this week, the Centerline Handle—formerly known as the T-Handle—is now available for order through Spray Research’s new website, sprayresearchusa.com. Engineered by Jason Peckham, a Masters Men skier and design engineer, the handle rethinks how rope and handle connect by eliminating the traditional open bridle in favor of a central attachment point.

The design aims to reduce the risk of serious injury during falls, like the one Peckham himself experienced in 2022 when his arm became entangled in a conventional handle at 39.5 off. The result: a fractured radius, torn tendon, and an extended recovery.

The Centerline’s signature feature—a rigid “Centerline Stiffener”—creates a closed, stable loop where the rope meets the core bar, reducing the chances of limb entrapment. It’s already been approved for a 24-month trial in IWWF tournaments, allowing athletes to put the handle through real-world paces at the highest level.

While early testers, including juniors and seasoned skiers, have reported a positive feel, the handle’s radically different shape and grip may require a period of adjustment. As with any departure from long-established gear, adoption may be gradual—and not every skier will prefer the feel.

Questions remain about how the handle performs in high-speed releases, its long-term durability, and whether a new shape can gain traction in a sport deeply rooted in tradition. But its arrival signals an important moment: a meaningful attempt to improve safety without compromising performance.

Available for $225 USD with free U.S. shipping through June, the Centerline Handle is poised for a wider audience this summer. Whether it becomes a staple on docks around the world remains to be seen—but it’s certainly one to watch.

William Asher slalom skier

The Relentless Reinvention of Will Asher

Articles

The relentless reinvention of Will Asher

William Asher slalom skier

Image: @jmommer2

By Jack Burden


In the early morning glass of a Florida lake, Will Asher slices the slalom course like a man trying to solve a riddle only he can hear. At 42, he shouldn’t be this vigorous. But this ride isn’t just about winning—it’s about understanding.

That understanding, it turns out, might be the only thing keeping him going.

In a season that was supposed to mark the rise of the next generation, it was the old master who stood tallest. Asher, already a two-time world champion and one of the most decorated slalom skiers of all time, didn’t just show up in 2024—he took over. Four professional wins, more than double the next closest competitor. A three-stop sweep through Morocco, the south of France, and Monaco, where he ran 10.25 meters (41’ off) not once, but twice. Against men half his age, Will Asher was untouchable.

Ask what changed, and he doesn’t talk about dominance—he talks about freedom.

“We made a breakthrough [with my equipment],” he said in a recent episode of the FPM Podcast with Marcus Brown. “And when you get to that point, you’re able to just switch off.”

There’s a calmness to Asher now—a kind of peace forged not by slowing down, but by refining his purpose. In a sport where most of his contemporaries have long since moved on, he’s still here. Still evolving. Still building.

Charting a New Course

What do you do when you’ve won almost everything? For Asher, the answer wasn’t to walk away. It was to go deeper.

Ski design—once a curiosity, now an obsession—has become his new frontier. His latest creation, the Syndicate Works 01, isn’t just a ski. It’s the result of a decade-long search for feel, feedback, and flow. A physical manifestation of everything he’s learned—and everything he still doesn’t know.

For Asher, it’s not about tournament wins anymore. It’s about chasing the perfect feel.

And it’s not just about his performance. It’s about the craft. The satisfaction of building something that matters.

“It’s like my babies,” he says. “Thousands of my children out there that people are trying to experience. And it does feel good when people say, ‘That changed my life.’ That’s their release. Their enjoyment. Their pleasure.”

This isn’t legacy-building. It’s presence. Pride. Passion shared.

Asher often speaks of skiing as more than sport. It’s structure. It’s meaning. A daily ritual that gives shape to life.

“Yeah,” he says, when asked if skiing brings purpose. “It keeps me on the straight and narrow. Keeps me motivated. Gets me up in the morning. Makes me go to bed. Make good decisions… most of the time.”

But underneath the laugh is something harder. At 42, he knows his competitive days are numbered. And he’s honest about what comes next.

“Essentially a piece of me is going to die,” he says. “We don’t see the timer, but we know there’s a timer. [Maybe] this year, maybe next year, it could happen next week.”

Then, more quietly: “And when people put their whole life into one thing and it suddenly goes away—it’s full of depression and anxiety. You’ve got to fill that hole, right?”

That’s the part athletes don’t talk about. The collapse waiting just off-stage. The slow erasure of identity. For Asher, the antidote isn’t legacy. It’s curiosity.

“I think specialization is a terrible thing,” he says. “[It’s] one of the worst things that can happen for the potential of a child in athletics. I don’t understand why it’s not also true for adults.”

He finds refuge in other routines: cycling, lifting, running, foiling. “It’s like my kind of therapy,” he says. “To get away from everything.”

Even his on-water habits reflect that mindset. “I will actively go out of my way to not ski with people that are just too obsessed and cannot switch it off.”

Another form of escape? R&D.

Asher’s work with HO Skis has become a space beyond the slalom course. A place where he can tinker, rebuild, and reimagine what a ski can be.

He talks about design with reverence. Like a miner chasing gold.

“You know there’s gold down there,” he says. “You’ve done the tests. You’ve done the experiments. You see it—it’s there. But you still have to go dig it out.”

That treasure—the perfect ski—remains elusive. And maybe that’s the point.

“As crazy as it may sound, after 20 years I’m still trying to understand the basics,” he says. “It’s unbelievable how many variables there are in just one ski.”

Flex. Rocker. Width. Concave. Materials. Layup. The way a ski flexes and twists. It all matters. And yet, no formula guarantees feel.

“On paper, you can maximize everything. [But] if you maximize everything, that thing doesn’t work,” he says. “You can get performance, but sometimes it’s almost scary. To actually go to that place on the ski—it’s not comfortable.”

Still, he chases it.

“I feel like it’s my life’s work to get all that to come together into one place.”

Staying Unfinished

It’s not just theory. Asher’s skis are reshaping how elite skiers approach the sport. Team Syndicate riders won more than 40% of all professional slalom titles last season, with roughly the same share of podiums. An extraordinary haul in a field where seven different ski brands earned at least one win.

Less rigidity. More feel. Less fear. More flow.

The lab has become a second course. A proving ground for risk and reinvention.

Because perfection isn’t really the point. The point is to keep going.

What’s most remarkable about Asher isn’t the titles—though there are plenty. It’s that, two decades in, he still believes there’s something essential left to discover. That his life’s work isn’t a résumé of wins, but a trail of questions.

And that legacy is starting to echo—in younger skiers looking beyond the podium. In those chasing meaning, not just medals.

That’s Will Asher’s influence. Not just as a champion. But as a craftsman. A philosopher of flow. A man still mid-process.

Back on the lake, Asher is testing again. Not skiing for scores, but for feel. Riding a prototype. Making notes. Chasing something invisible.

It’s not about being the best anymore. It’s about staying unfinished.

Because the perfect ski—like the perfect run—probably doesn’t exist.

But if you spend your life looking for it… maybe that’s enough.