With his son (Milo Ventimiglia), left, and Uncle Paulie (Burt Young), right, Rocky (Sylvester Stallone) prepares for his final Vegas bout.

True confession time:

In 1976, millions cheered "Rocky," an out-of-nowhere sleeper that became a Bicentennial box-office smash and a best picture Oscar-winner.

Me? I finally got around to seeing it in 1977, after the Academy Awards. And instead of cheering, my friends and I rolled our eyes and wondered how it beat "Taxi Driver," "Network" and "All the President's Men" in the best picture race.

"Bound for Glory" rounded out 1976's Final Five. Three decades later, all four classics still outclass "Rocky" on every scale but the applause-o-meter.

"Rocky" also ranks as a classic of its kind, to be sure -- a classic underdog tale of all-American, rags-to-riches wish fulfillment, with a hero who's both down-to-earth and larger-than-life.

But I'm still no more susceptible to the lovable title lug's charms than I was 30 years ago.

So, while some audiences undoubtedly will embrace "Rocky Balboa" (written and directed by its star, Sylvester Stallone) as a joyous holiday reunion, to me it's just another who-needs-it sequel preaching to the choir.

It's no knockout, but at least it's better than "Rocky V."

That 1990 debacle found Rocky (brain-damaged after "Rocky IV's" climactic slugfest against Soviet savage Ivan Drago), battling with Rocky Jr. and his own protégé, Tommy "Machine" Gunn.

That would have been the logical end to most rise-and-fall sagas -- especially one as drawn-out as Rocky Balboa's.

But perhaps Stallone wanted to bid farewell to Rocky, the role that made him a star, on a winning note. So, everybody back into the ring! (Whether it makes any sense to be there or not.)

As "Rocky Balboa" opens, the years weigh heavily on the title character.

He mourns the death of his beloved wife Adrian and suffers stoically when his stockbroker son (Milo Ventimiglia of TV's and "Heroes") rejects his affectionate overtures.

Instead, Rocky holds court at his restaurant (named, naturally, for Adrian), where he chats with patrons, poses for photos and recalls memorable moments in the ring.

Everybody's heard the stories before, but Rocky's a champ as well as a chump. Especially when he has a chance to help somebody from the past: Little Marie.

In the first "Rocky," a teenaged Little Marie dismissed Our Hero with a scornful "Screw you, creep" after he escorted her home.

These days, however, Little Marie (Geraldine Hughes) is all grown up, a single mother with a teenage son (James Patrick Kelly III), both of whom welcome Rocky's gallant assistance.

Much to everyone's surprise, however, the Italian Stallion's about to make a comeback -- after ESPN stages a simulated what-if computer bout pitting Rocky against the reigning heavyweight, Mason "The Line" Dixon (convincingly played by light heavyweight Antonio Tarver).

Ka-ching! Dixon's manager suddenly smells a pay-per-view bonanza, setting up a Las Vegas bout pitting "The Rage Against the Age." (The production filmed at Mandalay Bay last December, taking advantage of crowds gathered for the Jermain Taylor-Bernard Hopkins title rematch.)

Rocky may be closer to a Golden Age passport than his Golden Gloves days, but he's still got a thing or three to teach Dixon when it comes to displaying the heart of a champion.

In the ring, the 60-year-old Stallone appears to be in remarkable shape. And so is the character of Rocky, still a hulking, heart-of-gold palooka with a sweetness beneath the brute force.

As a screenwriter, however, Stallone (or, more precisely, his script) needs definite shaping up.

Cutting some of the flabby, blabby speeches about taking your shot and making your impossible dreams real would be a start.

Speaking of flabby and blabby, "Rocky Balboa" also could use (a lot) less of Uncle Paulie (Burt Young), Rocky's blue-collar pal and brother-in-law, who's worn out his welcome in all six installments of the saga.

Stallone's directing, meanwhile, shambles along like Rocky himself -- at least until the movie gets into the ring, where the visuals shift into overdrive, trying to capture the dizzying whirl of a big-time bout.

It's not enough to rescue "Rocky Balboa" from its earnest torpor.

But at least it shuts up Stallone and stops him from more speechifying, allowing "Rocky" fans to revel in another against-all-odds triumph, as the music (Bill Conti's rousing "Gonna Fly Now" theme, what else?) swells and the crowd goes wild.

That's what audiences have come to see, and "Rocky Balboa" indulges their nostalgia-trip yearnings with shameless fervor.

As for me, I'm still waiting for a movie as good as "Network" or "Taxi Driver" to come along this holiday season. Alas, some dreams are destined never to come true.