Long live the streak: Fort Valley’s Tim Wilson has not missed a Peach County football game in 50 years

FORT VALLEY – It was fitting Alicia and Tim Wilson met in church. He was the minister of music at Chamlee Memorial Baptist in Fort Valley. She lived in Hawkinsville and was invited to be the guest piano player at Chamlee.

Her aunt was worried Alicia might end up an old maid, so she became the self-anointed matchmaker.

She got a scouting report on Tim. He was kind, loyal, dedicated, committed … and he was passionate about Peach County football. 

He was a good catch … if you could catch him. He was a
moving target.

“I want you to know Fort Valley was not happy with me,’’ Alicia said. “They didn’t know me, so they all tried to tell him that his streak was going to be gone, and he wasn’t going to make it to all these ballgames.’’

She did score points for good timing. They were introduced at the end of basketball season and before the start of Little League baseball. They were married six months later. 

Their wedding date was moved so as not to conflict with Peach County’s football opener against Perry. They drove five hours from their honeymoon in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, just in time to pull up at the stadium, their suitcases still in the car.

The Wilsons celebrated their 32nd wedding anniversary last week.

For better. For worse.

For richer. For poorer.

To everything, there is a season.

Play ball.

Tim Wilson might be the most dedicated high school football fan in America.

He has not missed a Peach County football game – home or away – in 50 years. If the Trojans advance to the second round of the playoffs this season, the streak will reach 600 straight games.

Like the yellow school buses that roll off the assembly line at Blue Bird, there is not a football Friday that rolls through the valley when someone doesn’t ask him, “What’s the number tonight?”

It has become a point of community pride. It’s not just his streak. In a way, it is shared with everybody.

“I look at my life and ask myself why I do this. What is the purpose?’’ Tim said. “I like to believe I am there for all the young people whose parents either cannot or will not be there. Over the years, I’ve had them come back and tell me how much it meant to them. I have had them tell me that when they think of this program, they think of me.’’

In addition to his football faithfulness, he has kept the scorebook for Peach County basketball teams for the past 40 years. He has worked with developmentally disabled adults at the Kay Center in Fort Valley for 37 years. For the past 36 years, he has led the music program at Chamlee, where he also has taught Sunday School and served as a deacon. Before he retired, he called balls and strikes for three generations of local players as an umpire with the recreation department.

Alicia’s calendar has revolved around the sports seasons. She has learned to plan her life around off weeks and open dates.

“I didn’t care when they played, or where they played … I just wanted to know when they were NOT playing,’’ she said, laughing.

Tim never put on a uniform or took a snap for the Trojans. But when he reached his 25th year without missing a game, the school presented him with a letter jacket. After he attended his 400th straight game in 2009, he was given a helmet signed by every player on the team. The Trojans won every game that year, the only undefeated season in school history.

Although he has a lifetime pass to all the home games, he still buys a season ticket so he can sit in a reserved seat. He is so iconic a downtown restaurant once named a hot dog after him. 

Nigel Talton, who played football and ran track at Peach County, once asked to have his photograph taken with the “Legend.’’ Never mind that Talton was a celebrity himself. He was the “Freeze” who raced fans across the outfield between innings at Atlanta Braves games.

The streak has survived sweat-soaked September kickoffs and frigid December halftime shows. The night the streak reached No. 200 in Columbus, it was raining so hard that the water was ankle-deep in the floorboard on the trip home. There were six inches of snow on the ground after the state championship game in Atlanta in 2017.  

The streak has survived late-night road trips to remote corners of the state, heart-stopping overtime games, hospital visits, controversial officiating, dark parking lots, church revivals and, of course, COVID. It has survived the wear and tear of dozens of black T-shirts hanging on by a thread, hundreds of spirit buttons dangling across his chest, hoarse vocal cords, and scarfing down at least 1,457 Krystal pre-game meals.

Tim’s parents, the late Merrill and Carolyn Wilson, started taking him to Peach County games in 1975, when he was 12 years old.  At his first game, the Trojans defeated Carver 43-0. Matt Jackson, one of the school’s most revered players who later went to Ohio State, was the star running back. The Trojans won their first six games before Jackson broke his leg, then lost their last four and failed to make the playoffs.

That was 49 years and three stadiums ago. 

  Tim graduated from Peach County in 1981 with the distinction of being the school’s first male cheerleader. 

“After about 10 years, I realized I hadn’t missed a game,’’ Tim said. “Then it got up to 15, 20, and then 25 years.’’

From then on he was as committed as a child with a perfect attendance record. Life is about showing up. Buy the ticket. Take the ride.

The closest Tim has come to missing a game was in the fall of 2002. His father was in a coma at a Macon hospital. After keeping vigil at his father’s bedside for several days, Tim slipped away for three hours on a Friday night to attend Peach County’s road game against Northeast at nearby Thompson Stadium.

“When he came out of the coma, I said ‘Daddy, I’m going to go on and tell you I went on to the game,’ ’’ Tim said. “And his exact words were, ‘That’s what you should have done.’ ’’

Alicia has embraced the role of the devoted football fan wife.  There have been times when she has had to snatch an emotional Tim by the belt loop to keep him from running onto the field. When she doesn’t get to attend the games because of work or illness, she can count on him calling her every few minutes for an update. The local radio stations no longer broadcast the games, so she can expect a play-by-play.

  “All I have to do is sit home and wait. I’m going to get the call,’’ she said. “I’ve had him get so mad he slammed the phone down. At times, I have thought he was going to either be in jail or in the hospital.’’

  She thinks back to that first football season they were married. The honeymoon is not over.

“He wanted to get to 250, and then it just didn’t stop,’’ she said. “He said he wanted to see how long this ride can go. And, because I love him, why would I want to change him?”