STATE OF PLAY

MATT MORGILLO HAS BEEN WORKING TOWARDS PRO STREET GOODNESS WITH HIS HQ STATESMAN SINCE DAY DOT. DESPITE TAKING A FEW HITS ALONG THE WAY, HIS VISION HAS FINALLY BEEN REALISED

Matt Morgillo aims for pro street nirvana with his stout HQ Stato

IT’S THE CULMINATION OF MORE THAN A DECADE OF SPANNERING, WITH SEVERAL MOTORS AND PLENTY OF DOWNTIME IN BETWEEN

AS WE enter Matt Morgillo’s innocuous suburban garage, he explains his vision: “Big tubs, big engine; I’ve been picturing it since I was a kid.”

Under a car cover before us sits the embodiment of this vision, the very definition of the pro street style. Matt’s cloaked HQ Statesman takes up a commanding proportion of the available space. He peels back the cover to reveal the custom PPG silver duco and perfect gaps, features that appear so at odds with the cluttered walls framing it, full of vintage Coke bottles, model cars and oil paraphernalia. This car is the culmination of more than a decade of spannering, with two colours, several motors and plenty of downtime in between.

“This was my first car,” Matt explains. “It was pretty original when I got it; although it had been set up for a big-block, it was never finished.” Sometimes those projects are fraught with danger, but the Statesman was pretty straightforward. “I did it all up myself; it was a pretty tough car,” Matt continues. “All the usual stuff: 255s, deep dishes, nine-inch and a 450hp 308. I was 18 or 19 driving around like that!”

The tough combo lasted a few years, and although it was never Matt’s daily, it copped plenty of battle scars. “Some lady came out from a side street and took me out,” he says, gesturing to the Statesman’s original but damaged Taormina Aqua nosecone hanging on the wall. “Dad wanted to keep it, but I hate that colour, man!” he winces.

Matt’s Statesman was repaired, retaining the disliked factory colour, but it wasn’t out of the wars. “That’s when it got defected,” Matt sighs. “They did me for over 20 things, so there was no way it was going to be lifted easy.” A wry smile creeps across his face: “So that’s when I decided to come back worse!”

Naturally, the HQ’S transition from tough P-plater rig to intimidating pro streeter didn’t happen overnight. “I let it sit for a while,” Matt admits. He looks towards his dad, Vince, who has wandered in to raid the shed fridge, before continuing: “We had