So, you’re looking into Darlington Raceway winners, eh? Sounds straightforward enough on the surface. You just look up a list, and bam, there you have it. That’s what I thought, at least initially.

I figured, hey, I’ll put together a neat little record. Maybe for my own reference, or to settle a debate down at the local spot. Started off simple: just wanted to jot down who won, what year. Easy peasy. But then, you know how these things go. One thing leads to another.
First, I thought, “Okay, just the winners isn’t enough. What about the car they drove? The team?” So, I started digging for that. Then it was, “Well, what was the margin of victory? How many lead changes?” Before I knew it, I was trying to find out qualifying speeds from decades ago, then trying to compare eras. It got messy, real messy.
I had notes everywhere, spreadsheets that looked like a cat walked over the keyboard, and I was spending hours trying to verify some obscure detail about a race from way back when. My initial simple task had ballooned into this research project that was eating up all my spare time. It was like trying to untangle a giant ball of fishing line.
- Started with simple winner lists.
- Added car models and teams.
- Then race stats like lead changes and cautions.
- Got bogged down in historical comparisons.
- It just kept growing!
This whole experience reminded me of something…
Yeah, this little Darlington project going sideways, it really took me back to this one job I had. We were tasked with building this internal tool for tracking project progress. Simple, right? Just a few fields: project name, status, deadline. That’s it.
But then, oh boy. Marketing got wind of it. They wanted to integrate their campaign schedules. Then sales wanted to link it to client accounts. Then engineering wanted to add detailed technical specs and version control hooks. Every department wanted their own special little feature, their own way of slicing the data. Nobody talked to each other about the bigger picture.

What started as a simple tracker turned into this monstrous, complicated beast of a system. It had so many bells and whistles, half of them didn’t work right with the other half. We spent more time trying to fix integration issues and managing conflicting requirements than actually improving the core function. It was a classic case of too many cooks spoiling the broth. Everyone had a “good idea,” but nobody was looking at how all those ideas would fit together, or if they were even necessary.
We ended up with a system that was slow, clunky, and nobody really liked using it because it tried to be everything to everyone and ended up being good at nothing. It was supposed to save time, but it probably cost more in lost productivity and headaches than it ever saved.
So, yeah, Darlington Raceway winners. You can find the lists, sure. But my little “practice” of trying to compile and understand it all just showed me again how quickly a simple thing can get out of hand if you’re not careful, or if you let yourself get dragged down too many rabbit holes. Just like that old job. Sometimes, keeping it simple is the hardest part.