Every Day Should Be Saturday has the heart-wrenching story that deserves the soft focus and tinkling pianos of the most touching "My Wish" story: The sad tale of the white wide receiver.
"I'd just made an over-the-shoulder catch against a corner who later got a scholarship offer to Virginia. Nothing little, mind you. The announcer couldn't give me credit; he said I had..."
At this point, the tears come. They often do when he talks about that game. Thomason wipes them away with a few rubs of the same huge hands that cradle passes in easy catches like a fat man catching donuts from heaven. He stares into space composing himself, then speaks in deliberate tones as he says the words that burned him so deeply that night.
"He said I had 'deceptive speed,'" Thomason says, choking up again. "He might as well have called me a 'possession receiver.'"
But now there's hope, with the Caucasian Wide Receivers Association of America. Where no white receiver has to be damned to a life of Ultimate Frisbee again.