When visitors step into the International Motorsports Hall of Fame in Talladega, Alabama, they expect history, the smell of gasoline, the gleam of old sheet metal, and the kind of reverence you can only feel when you’re standing in front of cars driven by the likes of Richard Petty or Dale Earnhardt Sr. But a recent discovery inside the museum has fans fuming for a very different reason.

A photo shared by user @DaOtherShip on X shows a wall display titled “Alabamians in NASCAR.” Instead of the kind of archival photography or classic portraits fans are used to, the exhibit features a hyper-stylized, digital image that many quickly recognized as AI-generated art. The caption says it all: “Oh, that’s AI slop in the International Motorsports Hall of Fame.”

To understand the outrage, you have to know what the Hall of Fame represents. Located next to Talladega Superspeedway, the museum isn’t just a building full of old cars; it’s a shrine to the sport’s heritage. The legends it honors, from Bobby and Donnie Allison to Red Farmer and Davey Allison, are Alabama royalty in the racing world.

These men bled for their craft, built cars in backyard garages, and turned the Deep South into the beating heart of American stock car racing. So when fans saw what looked like a computer-generated composite in place of real photos or commissioned artwork, the reaction was swift and visceral. As one fan put it online, “They’ve got thousands of real photos they could’ve used, why replace them with fake ones?”

The frustration isn’t unique to this Hall of Fame wall. NASCAR fans have been increasingly skeptical of how the sport is embracing AI-generated content. Earlier this year, a widely criticized AI tribute video to Dale Earnhardt Sr. circulated online, with fans calling it “soulless” and “unrecognizable.”

The video was meant to celebrate Earnhardt’s legacy, but instead became an example of what not to do. Fans flooded NASCAR’s mentions with complaints about the use of synthetic images instead of authentic archival footage. To many, the new Hall of Fame display feels like a continuation of that same problem, using technology as a shortcut rather than as a tool to genuinely preserve history.

Critics argue that it’s not just about aesthetics, but ethics and authenticity. Generative AI art is often trained on massive datasets that include copyrighted or artist-made material scraped from the web without permission. That means, in some cases, the “art” being shown could unknowingly borrow from real artists’ work, without credit or context. Fans say that’s especially tone-deaf when the exhibit is meant to celebrate people, real men whose hands turned wrenches and whose lives defined an era.

The Wall Street Journal and The Verge have both covered this growing concern, noting how museums and institutions face backlash when they replace human creativity with algorithmic output. Others see it as part of a larger cultural issue, the creeping use of AI in every corner of media, even in spaces meant to preserve human legacy.

According to a 2024 Pew Research report, more than 70% of Americans believe AI use in creative fields should be limited or transparent, and reactions like this one at Talladega show why. At its core, this controversy isn’t about technology; it’s about respect.

The X threads are roaring, fans unloading raw grief over a tribute that misses the mark by a mile.

Users slam the AI slop in NASCAR’s hallowed hall

One fan tried to see the bright side: “No, lol, how’s it disrespectful? It’s made for them, lol. They could have just not made it at all, that got to be Worse.” Fair swing, the tribute aimed to lift legends like Earnhardt Sr., but the swing missed, fans torching the “unrecognizable” AI blur that flubbed the faces. Intent’s nice, but when the output’s off, it’s a wreck that stings worse than no try at all.

Ethics hit hard: “Yes, AI is unethical and is killing the planet. The slippery slope gets slipperier by use.” Fans smell theft in the tech, AI slurping artists’ sweat without a nod, a gripe backed by rumbles that generative tools jack creative labor.

A quip cut sharp: “I’m more offended they didn’t include Jocko Flocko.” Tongue-in-cheek or not, it nails the nitpick, the tribute botching who’s in and how. Earnhardt’s AI ghost? Didn’t even look like him, fans groaned, missing the mark on faces that fueled a fever.

Resources sparked rage: “I think it’s a waste of resources to use AI for art rather than integration into something like assisted surgery or something of a practical nature. It also shows a lack of effort for those it’s meant to celebrate.”

Fans fume AI’s better for fixing hearts than forging art, a nod to the call for tech to tackle big fights, not cheap tributes. The “no effort” sting lands true, real pics of Davey or Donnie skipped for synthetic slop, a shortcut that screams slack when legends deserve labor.

“It feels lazy,” one fan wrote under the tweet. “If you can’t put in the time to find real photos of legends like Davey Allison, what’s the point of a Hall of Fame?” That sentiment echoes the criticism aimed at sports leagues, music labels, and museums that rely on AI-generated imagery because it’s cheaper or faster.

The knockout summed it: “Disrespectful? No. Tacky, ugly, stupid, misguided, confusing, idiotic when there are thousands of pictures they could have used instead? Yes.” Fans don’t damn the deed, just the doozy, a tacky turn that trashes authenticity. Earnhardt’s AI shade didn’t shade Earnhardt, and archives brim with shots that could’ve shone.

Fans aren’t angry because an artist used digital tools; they’re angry because it feels like NASCAR’s sacred spaces are being filled with what looks like “AI filler.” It’s not hate; it’s hurt, a call for real reels over robo-renderings, for a Hall that honors, not hollows, the heart of NASCAR’s past.