Chase Elliott, the popular NASCAR driver for Hendrick Motorsports, has sparked considerable controversy with the unveiling of his NAPA Auto Parts 100th anniversary paint scheme ahead of the Texas Motor Speedway race weekend in late April 2025. The anticipated gold livery, designed to celebrate NAPA’s centennial milestone, quickly caught the attention of racing fans, not for its grandeur, but rather for its lackluster and dull appearance. Within hours of its official reveal, social media channels were inundated with disappointed reactions and pointed criticism, as supporters questioned both the design decisions and broader trends in NASCAR aesthetics.
At the heart of the debate is Elliott’s close relationship with NAPA Auto Parts, a partnership that stretches back to 2014 and is notable for its consistency in a sponsorship landscape marked by rapid change. As established brands such as Mars Inc., Hooters, FedEx, and GEICO exited the sport citing declining viewership and shifting business models, NAPA held its ground, continuing to anchor the iconic No. 9 Chevrolet. The centennial celebration was an opportunity for both Elliott and NAPA to assert their presence and heritage amid these turbulent times. Yet, instead of inspiring pride, the paint scheme has become a lightning rod for discussion about NASCAR’s evolving identity.
NAPA’s association with NASCAR goes back decades, from the days when Janet Guthrie first adorned their colors in the 1976 World 600, through notable partnerships with Michael Waltrip, Martin Truex Jr., and Buddy Barker. This legacy set high expectations for the 100th anniversary tribute, especially for a brand so deeply woven into the sport’s fabric. In anticipation, fans envisioned a gleaming, metallic gold scheme that would honor the storied past and create a dazzling spectacle under the Texas sun. Elliott himself expressed his pride in the collaboration, writing, “Celebrating 100 years of @theNAPAnetwork this weekend. Proud of all we’ve accomplished and excited for what’s to come,” reinforcing the build-up on social platforms.
The reality, however, did not align with anticipation. The unveiled paint job, a subdued and almost brownish gold, lacked the charisma that many associated with milestone celebrations. Disappointment was almost instant, as fans began to draw unfavorable comparisons with previous standout designs, such as the striking 2018 NAPA colors on Elliott’s car and the memorable, chrome-accented schemes from NASCAR’s past, like Darrell Waltrip’s iconic silver ride in the 1997 All-Star race. Many voiced their hopes for a reflective look, only to be let down by the muted finish and understated fire suit. “I have a feeling it won’t be shiny or reflective or anything and will just be like a flat brown color on the track… Brad Sweet’s car looks great, though!” commented one fan, signaling a sentiment echoed widely across online forums.
Compounding the frustration, comparisons arose between Chase Elliott’s reveal and that of Brad Sweet, who, in addition to his own tie with NAPA and co-ownership with Kyle Larson in the High Limit Racing Series, rolled out a visually bold, metallic-accented sprint car for the same celebratory occasion. Traditionally, Brad Sweet’s vehicles are known for their aggressive and luxurious color schemes, including glistening gold and deep blue hues. These contrasts only heightened scrutiny, with members of the NASCAR community regretting what they saw as a missed opportunity for Elliott and his crew.
As the critical voices swelled, some fans invoked other recent examples of creative success, such as Kyle Larson’s throwback scheme at Darlington, which paid tribute to Terry Labonte’s final Cup win, or Tony Stewart’s flame-heavy designs that paired paint with personality. Discontent soon morphed into a broader discussion about whether Chase Elliott’s NAPA tribute was a symptom of waning innovation in NASCAR. Quips such as, “Really wish it had a more metallic, shiny look than a dull brown,” aimed squarely at the design team’s conservative approach, underscored the desire for spectacle and tradition during significant anniversaries.
The tone of the debate grew increasingly pointed as some fans associated the scheme’s lack of flair with a perceived stagnation in Elliott’s on-track performance. Since his last Cup Series victory at Texas the previous year, the No. 9 car has struggled to reclaim its former momentum despite several top-5 finishes. The suggestion—at times crude, at times nostalgic—was that the car’s gold livery didn’t just underwhelm visually; it also symbolized a lack of risks, both on and off the track. “The way Darrell Waltrip’s Parts America car was like Chrome-y Silver, they had a chance to do something really good and make this a shinier gold. It kind of just looks like pi– after a long night of drinking this way,” said one blunt social comment, capturing how strongly many felt that the design failed to capture the excitement of the occasion.
Deeper reflections followed, connecting the paint scheme’s reception to Elliott’s broader role as NASCAR’s Most Popular Driver. Unlike past years where the No. 9 commanded attention with bold blues and assertive branding, the current scheme appeared washed out both literally and metaphorically. Sarcasm took hold, with one fan calling it “The homeless look,” highlighting how central visual identity is to NASCAR culture. Elliott’s prior statements about throwback schemes losing their luster during the Goodyear 400 were revived, with critics pointing out that his skepticism towards creative tributes now seemed to have materialized in his own camp’s efforts.
Amid the uproar, a handful of supporters tried to contextualize the decision, referencing the shifting dynamics of NASCAR sponsorships and the greater focus on consistency and partnership longevity rather than one-off visual spectacles. NAPA’s steadfast commitment, with roots tracing back almost fifty years, is seen by some as the true story, regardless of whether the paint job dazzled or disappointed. For others, the issue was less about tradition and more about pushing boundaries. Visual milestones, especially on anniversaries, carry weight both for a brand’s reputation and for its relationship with fans, and the consensus among detractors is that this was a moment squandered.
For Chase Elliott personally, the pressure has come from all sides. Having carried NAPA on his car for a decade and once capturing fan attention with instantly recognizable paint jobs, Elliott now faces demands to regain the momentum and excitement that defined earlier triumphs. The paint scheme controversy amplified expectations for his performance at Texas. The logic was simple: only a return to victory lane could counteract the narrative of disappointment and restore faith among his supporters. As one observer put it, “The only way that Elliott can reverse this fan sentiment is by parking this car in the victory lane. It’s been a while they’ve seen NASCAR’s favorite driver win a NASCAR race.”
The episode also shed light on how much fan engagement revolves not just around race results, but around the rituals and visuals that make motorsport memorable. A paint scheme, though ultimately only surface-deep, reflects the collective hopes of a fanbase and can become a rallying point—or, as in this case, a source of fractured debate. Although social media outrage can be ephemeral and fans quick to forgive if team performance rebounds, the disappointment with Chase Elliott’s NAPA tribute paints a vivid picture of unmet expectation during times when NASCAR continues to search for fresh inspiration and renewed energy.
The controversy has implications reaching beyond just one driver and his sponsor. In an era where sponsorship is less certain and brand loyalty more crucial than ever, how teams and companies choose to present themselves can set the tone for partnerships and public perception for years to come. This misfire may prompt other sponsors to reconsider their own strategies for milestone branding, seeking greater involvement from designers and fans alike to avoid similar reactions. Already, there is talk within the NASCAR community about engaging fans earlier in the paint scheme process, perhaps even crowdsourcing designs for future tributes, especially for teams and brands with as significant a legacy as NAPA.
As for Chase Elliott, the immediate fallout has left him with a challenge to address both on and off the track. The debate surrounding the NAPA anniversary livery is unlikely to recede quickly, especially if his results at Texas fail to deliver the emotional payoff fans are craving. Yet, there is also an opportunity in this controversy: should Elliott seize the moment with a strong race, he could shift the narrative from disappointment to redemption. As seen in past instances, iconic wins have the power to redefine even the most maligned visual changes and turn detractors into believers.
Regardless of the scheme’s color or sheen, the underlying questions raised will likely linger in NASCAR circles: Are legacy teams like Hendrick Motorsports and drivers like Chase Elliott keeping up with fans’ creative demands? How does the sport preserve its heritage while evolving aesthetically? And what does it really mean for a sponsor’s milestone to be marked in a way that resonates across generations of racing supporters?
Ultimately, the controversy over Chase Elliott’s NAPA 100th anniversary paint scheme exposes a rich, if unresolved, tension at the heart of NASCAR today—between nostalgia and innovation, the needs of sponsors and the passions of fans, and the challenge for star drivers to continually exceed expectations both visually and competitively. If there is a lesson to be drawn, it’s that in a sport fueled as much by identity as competition, no detail, not even the color of paint, goes unnoticed or unexamined by a fervent, invested audience.
What happens next for Chase Elliott and the No. 9 NAPA car remains uncertain, but a single race win or a bold move in future paint scheme design could very well turn the chapter. For now, the gold that was supposed to symbolize a century of achievement stands as a reminder of the high stakes and emotional investment that colors every aspect of NASCAR’s ongoing evolution.
