The rise of AI in recent years represents a turning point in technology, with the potential to affect — if not eliminate — human jobs and blur the boundary between reality and fantasy.

Of course, the world of sim racing already toes that line, letting average people experience the thrill of driving at high speeds and close quarters, all from a computer screen.

Perhaps it’s only fitting, then, that AI has long been a part of sim racing, creating opponents who have some of the same tendencies as human drivers, but unlike humans, who are also easy to adjust to your own liking.

Even iRacing, long known for its online multiplayer platform, has now embraced AI racing, pushing it as both a training tool for player-versus-player competition and its own platform for simulating individual events and entire seasons.

That harkens back to the original Papyrus games and their championship modes, which I spent hours playing as a kid. I never quite made it through a full season, but I have fond memories of racing at tracks like Rockingham, Atlanta, and Texas while simulating the first part of the 1999 NASCAR Busch Series schedule.

Continuing that development lineage, iRacing has announced plans to expand their AI offering into a full-fledged career mode. That idea was too enticing for me to wait for, so last fall, I began my own career mode using the existing AI functionality to help me live the dream of being a NASCAR driver.

Charting My Career

At the outset, I planned for my career mode to run through my favorite era of NASCAR in the mid to late 1990s and early 2000s. That will let me climb the stock car ladder in the formative years of the Truck Series, those familiar Junior-versus-Kenseth battles in the Busch Series, and the final Winston Cup-branded seasons featuring its recognizable stars and cars.

I started like any aspiring young driver: at the regional short track level. And a common entry point for many Southeast-based drivers in the mid ’90s was the Slim Jim All-Pro Series, which launched the careers of the likes of Jason Keller, Hank Parker Jr., and David Reutimann.

Although iRacing doesn’t have all of the tracks from that series, it does have a solid selection of AI-ready circuits, and using those, I was able to create a convincing era-appropriate schedule spanning virtual tracks from Florida through Milwaukee.

To add to the realism, I committed to running full-length races throughout my career mode, which would mean 400-lappers at Nashville and Myrtle Beach in the All-Pro ranks and plenty of 500-milers whenever I reach the Winston Cup level.

After poring over grainy race broadcasts on YouTube and nostalgia-rich fan pages on Facebook, I created custom-painted carsets on the Late Model Stock car for both the 1994 and 1995 All-Pro seasons.

That included classic designs like the Penrose Meat Snacks #44 driven by David Green and Mike Cope, and the All-Pro version of Darrell Waltrip’s #17 Western Auto car, which he drove in the 1994 All-American 400.

With the racecars ready – including my own, sporting a hometown company of AAR Roofing as the sponsor – and the AI driver attributes dialed in using statistics from each real-world season, I was ready to get my career underway.

That began with a string of 42 races over nine months simulating two Slim Jim All-Pro Series seasons. Those featured some highlights and lowlights, but more importantly, a realistic and immersive experience that put me back in the driver’s seat, and back in the NASCAR glory days of my youth.

A Rookie’s Arrival

The first few races in my 1994 season were all about getting comfortable. It had been several years since I raced regularly on ovals, and unlike the human drivers I had previously raced against, the AI made few mistakes and had good lap-to-lap consistency.

At each track, I set the overall skill range so that I could be competitive for top-fives if I could match their consistency, but wins were by no means a guarantee – nor did I want them to be for a rookie racing against veterans like Cope, Jody Ridley, and Freddie Query.

Along the way, the history-lover inside me enjoyed learning more about those drivers, and in the mock magazine and newspaper recaps I created after each race, I interweaved actual elements of those drivers’ backgrounds with the events of my season – another blend of fantasy and reality, true to AI’s form.

For instance, after the second race of the 1994 season, I profiled winner Rich Bickle, whose short track success was overshadowed for many by his Winston Cup mediocrity.

I was also thrilled as storylines evolved from race to race, such as the rookie-of-the-year battle between me and Ron Barfield Jr., a one-time development driver for Bill Elliott Racing. In the first race of the season, I edged Barfield for third place at New Smyrna, but he found victory lane first in race five at South Boston after making a late pass on Query.

Three races later, I responded with a win of my own – the only one I’d get in my rookie year – after outfoxing my AI opponents through traffic at the tight Lanier Speedway, then fending off a speedy Hal Goodson in the closing laps.

That season also included some learning opportunities and tough losses. At Milwaukee, a decision to change four tires backfired when most of the leaders took just two, which left me outside the top ten. A bigger heartbreak happened in the All American 400 at Nashville, when I crossed the line side by side with Cope, only to lose by a bumper.

That was one of eight wins on the season for Cope, which effectively locked up the championship – mirroring his real-world title in 1994 – entering the final race. A winning effort for Freddie Query in that season-ending Myrtle Beach 400 secured second in points for him and put me in third place overall.

While I let a shot at second place slip away in that final race, it was still a solid effort for a rookie, and I far outperformed Barfield, who finished a distant ninth in points. More importantly, given the narrow gaps at the top of the standings – I finished just 48 points behind Cope – and everything I had learned through those 21 races, I felt prepared to contend for a championship in the next season.

Hitting My Stride

Entering 1995, I fully expected a tough fight with the likes of Cope, Query, and real-world champion Hal Goodson. And the first race at Nashville had a familiar feeling, as Query eked out the win over me in another side-by-side run across the line.

Two races later, Goodson made his own mark with a victory in Pensacola, and Query followed that up with his second win of the year at Southern National Speedway.

To keep up with those drivers, I knew I’d have to win races as well, but I wasn’t adjusting the AI settings to make that easier on myself. Any wins would have to be well-earned, and my first opportunity to strike came in race five as the series returned to Lanier – the site of my lone win in 1994.

My defense didn’t start so well, qualifying in eighth and falling outside the top ten during the first 80 laps as I struggled to make the tires last on a track that’s almost a constant left turn. But a few adjustments in the pits, plus a crash further up the field, put me in position to go for the win.

That meant outdueling Query in a back-and-forth fight through traffic, then holding off Goodson for the second year in a row at the track. But after 250 laps, I was finally on the board with a win in 1995, and it was the first of several to come.

Two races later, I found a consistent long-run pace to win at Richmond. The following week, I got the best of Billy Bigley Jr. in a late-race traffic jam at New Smyrna. And in race ten at Southern National, I snuck past Cope and Goodson on the final lap to win in a three-wide photo finish.

By the midway point in the season, I had a narrow points lead but a stretch of upcoming tracks – including a doubleheader at the Charlotte legends oval, a return to Milwaukee, and the close quarters of Hickory – that had been challenging for me during the previous season.

Goodson showed his strength in those races, winning at Milwaukee while I finished third. But our championship battle truly came into the spotlight at Hickory, as I found myself in the lead late in the race with Goodson right on my bumper.

It was exactly the sort of dynamic, dramatic racing that I hoped for out of the AI, and it’s almost as if they could sense the importance of the battle. With three laps to go, Goodson made a dive to my inside, and it nearly stuck, but I kept my momentum up on the outside and held the lead while Barfield followed me and moved up to second place.

My fifth win of the season had helped expand my championship lead to 34 points, but with the three longest races still to come, I knew anything could happen. And in the next race at Pensacola, it did.

That simulated Snowball Derby was the most chaotic event of my career mode so far, as the typically clean AI banged doors and bounced off walls throughout the race, resulting in 13 caution flags.

The action came to a head on lap 264, when Goodson pounded the turn-one wall just as Query’s damaged car stopped at the pit entrance on the other end of the track. When Buckshot Jones checked up in front of me for the latter incident, I plowed into the rear of his familiar #00 car and joined my championship rival Goodson in the pits for extended repairs.

While we both limped to the finish several laps down, the race saw an upset winner in Gary Jones. It was a case of art imitating life, as the real Jones also scored his only All-Pro win in 1995, in that case at the Lanier Speedway.

A Tight Title Fight

Late in the 1995 season, the points race tightened up after Goodson won the penultimate race at New Smyrna in a photo finish over Freddie Query.

On one hand, that was an exciting demonstration of the AI’s abilities. On the other, it meant I was losing any margin for error atop the standings as I finished that race in fifth place. With the potential for another Goodson win on the way, I needed to finish third or better at Myrtle Beach to clinch the championship.

That race offered a dynamic on-track battle reminiscent of my oval league championship fights. For much of the race, I mirrored Goodson’s every move, pitting when he did and following him through traffic.

At one point, we shaked-and-baked our way to the front, each spending stints in the lead. But with 100 laps to go, my strategy nearly backfired, as Goodson and I were both boxed in behind lapped cars, dropping us to the back of the top ten.

If he moved forward faster than me, it could have created just enough of a position difference for him to overtake me in points. That meant pushing hard while carving through the field, making sure I didn’t lose sight of the blue #16 car.

Over a long green-flag run late in the race, we both worked our way back into the top three, and I even got ahead of Goodson after he struggled to negotiate some slower traffic.

A late caution put him on my bumper again, and we ended up side-by-side with less than five laps to go. But not wanting to risk contact while needlessly fighting for position, I backed off, taking a safe third-place finish in the race while locking up the 1995 championship.

That wrapped up a five-win season and a six-win stint in the Slim Jim All-Pro Series. But beyond my own on-track success over these two seasons, they served as a proof of concept that even with its limitations, such as an oversensitivity to track temperatures, iRacing’s AI can produce realistic racing and – with a little imagination – an immersive season-long competition.

My career mode now advances to the 1996 and 1997 Craftsman Truck Series seasons. That will mean a step up to intermediate tracks and road courses, along with tougher competition such as that era’s dominant trio of Mike Skinner, Jack Sprague, and Ron Hornaday Jr.

I’ll have to adjust the AI’s skill levels accordingly to simulate that learning curve, but even if I’m only fighting for top-tens instead of wins at first, that will add to the story of my simulated NASCAR career.

And as long as it remains a compelling adventure, that’s one job AI won’t be eliminating.