da Matta quickly found himself at home and embraced by the entire Gainsco/Bob Stallings Racing team. (Photo: Marshall Pruett) » More Photos

While the cockpit of the Riley-Pontiac isn’t yet as natural a fit as say a Lola or Reynard, one look at da Matta sliding into the Riley chassis and it’s evident the 2006 accident didn’t affect his racer’s instincts. The vibrant ball of energy that had paced back and forth while waiting to get into the car was transformed into the focused and calculating driver of old once he was belted into the Daytona Prototype.

A year of relearning his craft from the seat of a Kart may have helped prepare Cristiano for this day, but the feel of a form-fitting seat, a firmly tightened six-point harness, and a top notch team tending to his needs put him back into his rhythm in a way his recent days of karting never could. As engineer Kyle Brannan instructed Cristiano to bring the Pontiac V-8 to life, da Matta couldn’t help himself from indulging in the throttle. Rather than leave the five hundred horsepower engine to idle on its own, da Matta seemed to enjoy making up for lost time, revving the engine repeatedly to hear and feel the throaty bass vibrating throughout the car.

He’d waited too long to ease himself back into the routine of driving a racing car, and on Gurney’s suggestion for Cristiano to spin the wheels slightly to help get the car moving, da Matta chose to go one better. Delivering an NHRA-worthy burnout that left a one hundred foot trail of rubber and Pirelli smoke hanging in the air, the GAINSCO team was energized by Cristiano’s bold gesture.

Not only did he not stall, he drew upon his Champ Car and F1 experience in laying down two gorgeous black stripes while counter-steering down pit lane. Brilliant stuff.

Rowing up through the Xtrac gearbox, da Matta worked through an installation lap before coming back into the pits as the team had planned. Gurney and Fogarty met da Matta as he came to a halt and immediately asked if he was comfortable. Less concerned with his physical comfort, the looming question of Cristiano’s sensory and emotional comfort was gently raised.

Before they could finish, da Matta had begun answering in the best way possible—he inquired about some of the more refined handling traits he noticed, and wanted their feedback to confirm his observations. Mentally, da Matta was on the limit from turn one. In a single 2.5-mile tour, he’d logged the Riley’s relative grip and downforce compared to the Lola he’d last raced, the Riley’s slight bottoming on the straights, and the sections of the track where dirt and water from the storms would limit his speed. So much for baby steps.

While Stallings insisted Cristiano should take it easy and get up to speed slowly, da Matta refused to have his reigns pulled back after waiting for so long to put Elkhart Lake behind him. It wasn’t an act of defiance so much as it was an act of reclamation. After almost two years of being controlled and restricted, Cristiano reveled in the singular experience of being back in his element -- a place that had no doctors, no doubts, and no limitations. This experience was pure; it was his to control. It’s where he knew he belonged.

Scanning the track and ready to get back under way, da Matta was like a cat tracking its prey before leaping from the bush, surveying the open space ahead and selecting the best spots to safely launch an attack. He’d quickly grown comfortable stretching the legs of the Pontiac V-8, and within a few more laps, began challenging himself by carrying that speed into and out of the eleven turn Eagles Canyon track.

If there was a major (and unspoken) concern, it was the possibility of da Matta spinning or crashing. While Daytona Prototypes have an impeccable safety record, the thought of Cristiano suffering another injury kept the team from completely relaxing. Even a harmless but high speed spin or off could serve as a blow to his confidence.

It wasn’t until I pulled the in-car footage of da Matta’s first full session that everyone caught a proper glimpse of da Matta’s return to his old form. He pushed the car on corner entry and the tail wanted to come around, but he caught it milliseconds after it started to slide. As he got more aggressive with the throttle on corner exit, the tires started to spin but he kept his foot down and swiftly fed small doses of opposite lock to keep the chassis under control. Crew members high-fived each other as they took turns watching the footage; da Matta’s father smiled and sighed a breath of relief. Stallings nodded his head and shook Mr. da Matta’s hand.

His upshifts and downshifts were clean and decisive right away. His use of the rest of the controls—the steering wheel, the throttle, brake, and clutch—all looked and sounded as if he’d been driving a DP car for years. In repeated 10-lap bursts, Brannan kept da Matta focused on getting back into the swing of providing handling input and analysis. What Brannan didn’t know was that da Matta was already a few steps ahead and had been doing this in private with Gurney and Fogarty every time he returned to the pits.

Knowing that Stallings had asked him to take it easy behind the wheel, da Matta confided in Fogarty and Gurney about the areas the car could be improved and where he was losing time from his very first laps. Even as Gurney and Fogarty said their goodbyes to da Matta and prepared to catch their flights home, da Matta thanked them and let them know he was ready to return to his job as a pro driver. “Whatever I can do to make the car better, I’ll try to do, alright…”