Sandler deals in the Chapline-like whimsy of the triumphant little man - in this case a vengeful nerd. Agreed, he hasn't the simpering narcissism of Chaplin at his most sentimental, though you have to wonder what Sandler thinks he's doing with his one-note, instantly unconvincing, blink-and-stutter performance. He's Bobby Boucher, a 31-year-old virginal retard who takes his job (a football team's 'water distribution engineer') too seriously, despite the ceaseless abuse of the jocks, and who bows to his Mama (Bates, hopeless), despite her instruction that 'little girls are the devil'. Sacked by one team, he takes up with Winkler's hopeless Coach Klein and discovers the ability to channel years of victimisation into prowess on the field, winning games and girls. The direction is as blunt and vacant as the plotting, the jokes are obvious and the performances (with a couple of exceptions) charmless.