I've got a little secret to confess: I actually like the show Entourage.

Call me crazy. It's ok, sometimes I think I am. Especially after gritting my teeth through another unbearable episode every Sunday night. The show has become a car crashed mixed with one of those really bad American Idol audtions, painful on your eyes and ears, but you just...can't...look...away.

This season has been no different.

Eric has officially turned into Billy Walsh's prophecy: A walking, talking "suit," working for the man, and sipping chardonnay with his fiancee, all while they plan their wedding (Good times. I just hope he turned his penis in to the proper authorities). Turtle's turned every episode into a Dos Equis commercial, and pushed tequila on the American consumer the way a 30-year-old, first time mom pushes pictures of her newborn on unsuspecting friends. And Drama? Well that dude is just pushing 50.

Finally there's Vince, who has slowly but surely become less likeable than Brett Favre throwing football's to high school kids in Mississippi. Which is no small feat. He's dating a porn star, doing drugs and throwing his life away. There may not be a less likeable character on TV.

But as I watched this weekend's past episode, I couldn't help but notice something. How the alcohol/drug/womanizing downfall that Vince is in the middle of, looks eerily familiar. Then I realized where I'd seen it before: This past year with Tiger Woods. A guy who just so happens to be back in the news after finalizing his divorce with Elin on Monday.

After catching a replay of Entourage again last night (again, I don't know why I watched, I guess I'm a masochist) I really started to wonder, who's had a worse year, Tiger Woods or Vinnie Chase?

Let's investigate.

There's a great scene in the movie Major League II, where Roger Dorn looks Jake Taylor in the eye, and says, "Did you ever feel like you were just born for greatness?"

While I can't say I have, I do know greatness when I see it: Roger Federer. Pre-sex scandal Tiger Woods. Ken Griffey Jr., before his body broke down like a used car. And of course Snooki, the Situation and Pauly D and the rest of the Jersey Shore cast.

That's right, Jersey Shore kicked off it's second season last night, and I'm here to give you a recap.

But rather than just doing a regular review, I'll let the guys put it into their own words. Here is a running diary (Yes I ripped this gimmick off from a million writers before me) of the events, as they transpired.

Let's pick things just minutes before the premeire...

Considering that I'm not between the ages of 72 and dead, horse racing has never really piqued my interested as a sports fan. Sure, I'd flip on a Kentucky Derby here or there, check out the Belmont if someone was going for the Triple Crown, and yes, I did send flowers and a hand-written card to Barbaro a few years ago, but that's it. (Ok, I definitely made that last part up. You caught me)

So when my buddy asked me in the spring of 2007 to go to the Preakness Stakes with him, I was hestitant. I mean, when I thought about going to a big horse race, I just pictured lots of stuffy people in big hats and ugly suits, and old men smoking cigars sitting next to "wives," half their age. Not to mention horses running around in circles. Consider me uninterested.

But over the next few weeks, my buddy persisted: "Come on AT. My uncle went a few years ago and said it was one of the best days of his life. Said you won't even see a horse the entire time you're there." Whatever that meant.

Still, sitting in a medal chair next to some 40-year-old woman in pearls, betting money I didn't have, on horses I didn't care about, just wasn't appealing.

Finally, after weeks of pressure, I relented. At least, "Attending a Triple Crown horse race," was something I could cross of my sports bucket list (Even though at the time, the term "Bucket List," hadn't been invented. But still).