Dave Wall — Wally to his friends — leans back in his chair at a card table in the comfortable confines of the Western Fair driver’s room. He flashes a knowing smile. “We play Gin for $20, but whatever you want to play for is fine,” he says, shuffling a deck of cards.

Story by Keith McCalmont
Photography by Matt Waples

“We better play for fun,” quips photographer Matt Waples.

At 65, Wall, recently inducted into the Canadian Horse Racing Hall of Fame, has been holding court at a driver’s room card table for the better part of four decades.

He’s visited the winner’s circle 7,124 times as a driver in an illustrious career, earning purse money in excess of $59.7 million, and looking around the card table, which includes 21-year-old drivers Nick Steward and Bob McClure, he’s got to feel pretty certain of another victory with this shower of part-time grifters.

“Who’s the best Gin player in harness racing?” I ask Wall.

“You’re looking at him,” grins Steward, nodding towards the newly minted Hall of Famer, who ran off 29-consecutive $1-million seasons between 1982 and 2010.

“I’ve got more experience than anybody, let’s put it that way,” offers Wall.

It’s a comment that applies to both his card playing and his driving. He’s not far off 50,000 starts in his storied career — enough miles to have driven twice across the globe at its equator.

Wall, who makes a living coming to swift conclusions on the track, is suitably succinct in explaining his longevity.

“I’m just a blue collar worker showing up to work,” he says. “Driving good horses helps.”

I learn quickly that the object of the game of Gin is to collect a hand where most of the cards in your hand can be combined into sets and runs and the point value of the remaining unmatched cards is low.

Once the cards are dealt out, the player to the dealer’s right must select a card from the top of the stock pile or choose one of the discarded cards, and then take a card from his own hand and place it face up on the discard pile.

When a player’s total deadwood (cards not in sets or runs) is less than 10, he can ‘knock’... signalling the final turn.

At this point, any remaining cards from the losing player’s hands which are not part of a valid combination are added up. In this driver’s room, when you reach 100 points, you’ve busted and are out of the game.

It’s far more confusing than it sounds and it’s readily apparent that I’m not very skilled.

The cards are flying across the table at a rapid pace and I’m struggling to keep up as Wall talks about another Hall of Famer.

“The best horse I ever raced was Goodtimes,” knocks Wall. “He was a special horse. He never went away very often that he didn’t come home with something and he raced against the best in the world.

“It got me overseas three times, which was a good experience. He raced in the Elitlopp and it was a great experience seeing the way other people do their job. I’ve made a lot of friends. It’s been a great life.”

To the groans of his young colleagues, he promptly punctuates his story by laying his hand out on the table.

It’s my turn to deal and things are not going well. Having shuffled the deck, I’m far too immersed in the experience and I’ve dealt out at least 10 cards to each player —three more than what’s required.

As I re-shuffle, I ask Wall about the biggest stakes he’s played for in the driver’s room.

“We’ve had some big games,” he admits. “It’s reached $500 a game.”

“How did that happen?” I whistle while putting down a card that Wall readily snaps up.

“That was the week Nick didn’t get a fine so we were playing for that,” he jokes.

Wall, who has a quiet but charming charisma, has a way of turning personal questions into stories about other people or horses. As we play, I am intently aware that the veteran driver is keen to credit just about anyone else but himself for his many accomplishments.

“When I won the Breeders Crown with Odies Fame, I could hear the people hollering at the head of the lane, cheering all the way through the stretch,” he starts. “She was a nice mare. She’s the only Canadian foal that got Three-Year-Old of the Year in the U.S. and never raced once in America. I thought that was quite an accomplishment.”

The young drivers listen with rapt attention. “He’s the elder of the group,” offers McClure. “You can’t get mad at him and you listen to everything he says.”

Both drivers struggle to share an anecdote. “It’s hard to come up with stories,” admits McClure. “He’s so mellow and easy going.”

“He has all the stories on us!” exclaims Steward.

As I desperately attempt to form a run of cards with fumbling hands, a smiling Wall lays his cards on the table, once more a winner, and I realize that my 4,5,6,7 cards are not all the same suit. The points add up but Wall, constructive with his criticism, says I’m learning quickly.

My fragile ego, bruised but not broken, needs to know when Wall started playing Gin and how long it took him to get good.

“I thought Wally invented the game,” giggles Steward.

“I never played a game in my life until I started driving at Greenwood,” says Wall, who for the umpteenth time in a lifetime of driving, is dealing out the cards. “It takes the tension out of racing every night.”

Then with a grin, he recalls a particularly profitable evening at Greenwood in 1985.

“I remember the night I won the North America Cup with Staff Director,” he laughs. “I was playing a game, and after winning the race the reporters came in to do their interview and I said: ‘You’ll have to wait a minute, I’ve got to finish this game.’ They got a real kick out of that.”

So, how did that race play out?

“I went to the front and cut it out,” he says matter-of-factly.

And, what about the card game?

“I won that too,” he laughs.

A family man at heart, Wall is tickled that he spends his working days at his Komoka, Ontario farm with Cheryl, his wife of 47 years, and his children Dawn, Dean and Brett.

Dean drives and trains horses, just like his father, while Brett is a co-owner in a number of their equine athletes.

“My daughter works here every day with me and her husband comes every day too,” shares Wall. “It’s nice to get up in the morning and know you’re going to be among family.”

He has a strong sense of community and for the past 20 years has been the proud organizer of the Walltyme Stables Charity Golf Tournament with a mandate of, ‘harness horsemen helping harness horsemen’.

Wall started the fund raising event when a close friend, Gerry Maguire, was killed in a car accident, leaving behind a young family.

“We’ve had 20 since,” says Wall, whose tournament helps a different horseman in need each year. “Anytime a horseman gets hurt or is in need of a little dough we try to do what we can and make a lot out of some… we’ve done really well with it and the response we get is unbelievable.”

He estimates that the charity has banked more than $250,000 over the course of two decades.

Wall, true to form, shies away from any accolades of the accomplishment.

“The horsepeople responded,” he shrugs. “There isn’t anyone they don’t want to help.”

Our card game, which I exited in four swift hands with McClure not far behind, is nearing its conclusion. Wall has yet to drop points and Steward is struggling to stay alive.

Steward shuffles as McClure jokes that Wall was in the driver’s room playing cards every day while recovering from an accident that broke both his ankles last April.

“It’s all I’ve ever done,” says Wall of his life at the races. “I’ve been involved all my life and I just couldn’t stay home. So, I hobbled around… this is where I started. I don’t live far from here. I might be on my way out, but I’m here yet.”

Just being a part of the game he loves is enough for Wall. The man they call ‘Mr. OSS’ doesn’t really have any remaining goals.

“I think I’ve won every race in Canada,” he says, shaking his head. “Pacing Derby, Maple Leaf Trot, Breeders Crown. I love what I’m doing. I love getting up and going to work. As long as I can keep doing that, I’m the happiest man in the world.”

And then, with a pointed stare across the table asks, “What do you need Nicholas?”

Steward, his face contorted in deep thought, appears to be in danger of losing.

The youngster tosses down a card and Wall snaps it up, slaps his hand down on the table and announces it’s time for him to go drive yet another race.

He won the game — and would you believe it — he went out to the track and won gate-to-wire with Daylon Miracle.

Perhaps that’s the sort of story Steward and McClure might share at a card game of their own some day.