"Friday Night Lights" on, "Daisies" pushed; show me the "Dirty Sexy Money"; too bad "Practice" isn't private

On this fall's deja-view TV schedule, Wednesday is an especially striking instance of the old being made new again. Four series will be relaunched, including the critics' favorite "Friday Night Lights," which begins its third season on DirecTV's channel "The 101."

First, though, we turn to ABC, which is airing three untested series back-to-back-to-back on Wednesdays. All three shows were launched last year, and all three had their seasons cut short by the TV writers' strike.

"Pushing Daisies" is still an enchanting confection but hard to imagine making a weekly habit. "Dirty Sexy Money" still hasn't decided if it wants to be the next "Boston Legal" or "Brothers and Sisters."

And as for "Private Practice," months of time off have done little to improve the train-wrecky quality of virtually every scene of this "Grey's Anatomy" spinoff.

In fact, TV spinoffs suffer this same fate so regularly, you wonder why networks keep making them. Why not ask for double the episodes of the existing hit show instead? When "American Idol" is on the air, it airs new shows twice a week. Is there some reason "Grey's Anatomy" can't do 50 episodes a year?

Because it's hard to imagine the episode of "Grey's" that would sink to the level of "Private Practice," with its doctors constantly congregating in offices to gossip like teenage girls; with dialogue that makes "Hannah Montana" seem like "Masterpiece Theatre"; or with the gut-wrenching ethical dilemma-of-the-week so maudlin and contrived that, to paraphrase Mark Twain, only a viewer with a heart of stone would be unable to laugh at it.

Still planning to watch? OK, then at least take note of how many times in the first act people talk about their bonus checks. And in the second act, how many people talk about the candy jar. If you're still watching by the third act ... you're on your own.

More promising is the second season of "Dirty Sexy Money," which finds Nick (Peter Krause) more deeply mired in the scandals and secrets of his one and only client -- the wealthy and screwed-up Darling family -- than ever. One Darling is putting the moves on his wife; he's trying to fend off another family member's advances; and Tripp Darling (played by everyone's favorite lion in winter, Donald Sutherland) is about to make Nick an offer even harder to refuse than the one he made last season.

The poetic part is that this is exactly what befell Nick's late father, who before his untimely death also found his life increasingly entangled with this bunch of spoiled whack jobs. "Dirty Sexy Money" didn't get a full season to play out last year, and though I like where it's going, the show still needs a while to hit its stride.

"Pushing Daisies" remains as dazzling and fanciful and aloof as it was when I tried to watch it last season. There are some changes for season two, as I discovered when I toured the set this summer and found myself wandering through a chapel. (It's part of a convent that one of the characters will check herself into.)

Ultimately, though, the premise is still the same: Pie maker Ned (Lee Pace) and detective Emerson (Chi McBride) continue to solve crimes using Ned's creepy gift of reviving murder victims just long enough to learn their cause of death before sending them off to the hereafter. His childhood sweetheart Chuck (Anna Friel) remains platonically attached to him (because if they actually kissed, she'd die instantly). And the children's fairy-tale-sounding narrator still talks over seemingly every scene on the show. He's worse than me when I'm watching "The O'Reilly Factor."

"Pushing Daisies" occupies an alternate universe so defiantly removed from anything resembling the real world -- right down to its oversaturated color scheme -- that as a viewer, it feels like an all-or-nothing dare. Honestly, I can't imagine tuning in every week to see what Technicolor adventure is in store for these characters. A little "Pushing Daisies" goes a long way for me. But it is adorable.

UPDATE: A Kansas City visual effects firm created more than 70 vfx for the episode. Read all about it.

Now we come to "Friday Night Lights," a show that will air its entire season only on DirecTV, then reair on NBC in February. (The satellite maker rescued the low-rated series from almost certain cancellation; in exchange, it gets exclusive rights to the episodes for a while.)

Based on the Buzz Bissinger-written book and movie, "Friday Night Lights" enters its third season with Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler) back in his old job, after much of season two was spent out of town in a pointless college job. OK, "pointless" may be too strong. In the real world, this is exactly what successful high school coaches do -- move on to college -- so I'm not faulting the producers' logic, just their common sense. He was the lead character! What were they thinking?

Anyway, Coach is back, and right by his side is his wife Tami -- literally. She's the principal at Dillon High now. "Principal Taylor, you look hot," says her number one fan as they begin their first day at work. Her leadership style is a little less so, especially with a vice principal questioning her at every turn.

As for the kids -- well, I recognize all the couples from season two of "FNL," but I would be lying if I said I knew exactly where they stood with each other at season's end. And so, when I read on fan blogs that the writers have shaken up the high school romances on the show, I think, "Well, if they say so."

See, this is my quarrel with the way "FNL" has been sold to the public. "It's not a football show," is the constant refrain I hear from executives and my fellow critics. I heard NBC Olympics chief Dick Ebersol once say it was a better teen soap opera than "The O.C." Well, OK, but I'm sorry, it actually is a show about football.

First and foremost, in fact, it's the story about a high school that's obsessed with winning on Friday nights throughout the fall. That was the point of Bissinger's book and until season two got off the rails a bit, that was what the show was about, too.

So that's why I like where season three is going -- it's back to basics. Coach Taylor has inherited a sloppy, complacent football team that kind of acts like it won a state championship two years ago and doesn't need to prove itself again. He's going to whip Dillon into shape, you know that. And here is where the show is at its best. Take a look at this spoiler-free clip and you'll see one of the funniest moments of the whole episode:

And you know he's going to try to help his onetime standout Smash Williamson (Gaius Charles) succeed in life as well as he did on the field, before a debilitating leg injury.

And most every week, they're going to play a game. This week's episode, which was a generous 50 minutes long in its special DirecTV version, revolved around that game. Life isn't about football, but for "FNL" to make that point, it needs to be about football first and foremost. And then the rest of the show, as with Bissinger's book, needs to be about how the obsession with winning football games shapes everyone else at Dillon High. At its best (and I would argue, most accessible), that's what "FNL" does. You'll see a lot of that thinking in this episode -- that is, if you're lucky enough to see "FNL" this year.