Survivor: Pearl Islands New episodes of Must-See TV, CSI and

Without a Trace were postponed because of baseball, yet CBS bit the proverbial bullet and aired Survivor as scheduled. Inspired by the visiting Rupert's goodwill (he showed them how to fish and helped them move their shelter to a drier beach), Morgan dusted Drake in the reward challenge. Drake also lost the immunity challenge. I'm sorry, but whatever's left of $1 million after taxes is not nearly enough to entice me to slurp Jeff Probst's seafood shakes. I can barely polish off ceviche; I shudder to think how I'd handle a Bass-o-Matic byproduct. Michelle got the boot. Must have been her sparkly belly button.

What I Like About You Admit it. Game 7 or not, baseball is a slow game, especially early on. (I swear I heard someone tell Tim McCarver to put his cell phone away.) No one gets excited until the last three or four innings, as the end draws near and the kegs run dry. Since it was only the bottom of the second at 9 pm, I thought I'd drop in on the WB. I found Jennie Garth and Amanda Bynes delivering dueling Jennifer Aniston impressions in an episode about Garth's Val trying to avoid her hunky boss at the gym and Bynes' Holly confused by her budding feelings for bike messenger Vince. Riveting.

Run of the House Still no score at 9:30, and lethargy compels me to stick with the Frog a bit longer. Looks like mimicry is in the water at this network, because Kyle Howard is channeling Mr. Show's David Cross. But at least he and Joseph Lawrence's character have a brotherly heart-to-heart, something sitcoms excel at.

Coupling The original series, on BBC America. I think I now know what sold American executives on this show: the English accents. Both versions are essentially the same, but even an episode revolving around Susan's discovery of Steve's adult video starring spanking lesbians becomes palatable when a proper Brit defends his fondness for "bottoms."

Jamie's Kitchen Speaking of accents, although this show makes The Restaurant look like amateur night at the Olive Garden, I have no shame admitting I tuned in to spend an hour with Jamie Oliver. Even though the closest I come to cooking is nuking low-cal frozen dinners and assembling the occasional veggie Boboli, I watch Food Network constantly. And 90 percent of my favorite shows feature male chefs: Alton Brown (the clever eccentric); Tyler Florence (the sensitive hunk); Bobby Flay (the hip geek); Tony Bourdain (the Colin Farrell of cooking). Sure these guys are easy on the eyes, but not much is sexier than a man who can and will cook, even if it's simply an omelet. As Carrie observed about Miranda's ardor for The New Yorker on Sex and the City, Food Network is my porn.

Panasonic Recordable DVD Commercial Kevin Smith, meet Jason Alexander. Oh, Christian Slater already introduced you? My bad.

American League Championship Series, Game 7 Finally, things heated up considerably in the seventh inning, when New York scored their second run — around 10:30. For the next two hours, I was hooked. (I was hoping for a Bennifer sighting but the closest I got was the Sox's Johnny Damon.) I learned that baseball players have fun names like Nomar and Trot. They could also stand a few hours with the Fab Five. Pinstripes and knee socks scream fashion emergency. Past midnight, late add Aaron Boone's tie-breaking run won not only the game, but also countless hearts as his color commentator brother Brett proudly watched him round the bases and bring the pennant home to his jubiliant New York teammates. Some might call the Yankees a machine, but no one can deny that Dorothy's Tin Man had a heart.