The Dark Side of Motorsport: Fake Accounts, Nonexistent VIP Passes, and Scams

Nothing is more valuable than emotions and dreams. Especially those of your own children. There are parents who even sell their house to allow their “kid” to compete. Many go into debt, ruin themselves to give their children a chance to try to become racers. So of course there are parents willing to spend a few hundred euros so their child can meet their idol.

We won’t get into educational issues—this isn’t the place—but it’s right to shed light on an existing, widespread, and in some ways disturbing phenomenon: people who use social media to pose as a champion and extort money in exchange for supposed meet-and-greets.

Those who have worked in motorsport are usually a bit streetwise and can generally tell when something smells like a scam. Many parents, however, have not the slightest experience of the paddock—at most they’ve watched a race from a grandstand at a racetrack. So it’s easy for them to be taken in by shady individuals.

The son’s birthday: 18 years old. The boy is simply an enthusiast, a fan; he doesn’t want to become a racer or work in the paddock but would “just” like to meet his motorsport idol in person to exchange a few words and take a photo. Nothing wrong with that—it’s a legitimate wish. If a parent knows motorsport, they know full well there are basically two or three paths. The simplest and cheapest is to join the rider’s official fan club. During fan club dinners it’s usually possible to take a selfie and have a brief chat. If the parent is willing to spend more, they can book the desired package on MotoGP Premier (or Formula 1 Experiences) and choose from a wide catalog of “experiences” that include meetings with riders and teams. You pay, then take part in the paddock tour and meet the riders (prices are public; just check the dedicated sites). Another route is to contact the teams: they often have very good packages for fans willing to open their wallets.

What if the parent doesn’t know the official channels? Naively, they contact their child’s beloved champion via social media. If the profile is real, they’re unlikely to get a response. But fake accounts proliferate on social media, and some are so well done they’re almost impossible to distinguish. And so a dad sends a private message asking how to arrange a meeting. Lo and behold, a polite reply arrives immediately, maybe sprinkled with emojis. If the parent doesn’t reply right away, the supposed champion persists: “I’m really happy about this; we can gladly organize a meeting, but as you can understand there are rules to follow, procedures… I’ll have my management contact you.” Of course, they make sure not to give names, surnames, or phone numbers—everything happens through social media. And so the somewhat naive parent is peppered with requests for money to pay for hypothetical VIP passes needed for meetings with the rider. Thanks also to the use of artificial intelligence, the scams are packaged so well and wrapped with such care that not even a Christmas present looks that enticing.

“What’s the big deal about spending 700 euros for my son’s 18th birthday? He cares so much about meeting his idol.” the dad thinks to himself. Maybe 700 euros is half a monthly salary for a father of three, but those are details. In his mind he already envisions the meeting, the boy’s emotions, the joy. Instead—no! Nothing! No dinner with the champion, just a lot of anger and a feeling of… disgust. Some wise up in time and don’t send a cent, while others lose money they could have used to buy an official experience ticket through the proper channels.

Motorsport’s history is full of multi-million-euro frauds, so “little scams” of 800/1000 euros shouldn’t be shocking—but they are extremely sordid because they target the most naive people.