Not so pure and simple:

If the Bad News Bears taught anything — beyond the imprudence of filming a sequel in Japan — it’s that sports don’t pay for themselves. A misfit Little League team needs uniforms. Enter Chico’s Bail Bonds. The lesson? Beggars can’t be choosers.

But darned if they don’t try.

Earlier this week, Michigan and Ohio State announced a pending sponsorship deal for their yearly football clash, with telecom giant SBC forking over $1.06million to rename the game the “SBC Michigan-Ohio State Classic.”

(In a diplomatic master stroke, SBC planned to invert the school’s names for next year’s contest. The Buckeyes and Wolverines also were set to play pingpong in North Korea. OK, so that last part was made up).

Predictably, the proposed pact touched off a flurry of sanctimonious hand-wringing. The schools are selling out. The game will never be the same. Nothing is sacred. Under pressure, both universities promptly dropped the agreement, as Michigan’s athletic director dubbed it “inconsistent” with the school’s values.

Boo-hoo. Here’s a tissue. Next thing you know, Sony will want to slap a “Spider-Man2” ad on third base. Somebody hide the children. And cover their impressionable young ears, lest they hear that “can you hear me now?” guy talking over the Verizon halftime report.

The horror.

Look, let’s be honest: Ohio State and Michigan chickened out, without cause. Because the only real problem with sports sponsorship is that there isn’t enough of it. No joke. Outside of Olympic beach volleyball, massive corporate subsidies are the best thing going in athletics today, a rising tide that lifts all boats. At least those not captained by Gary Bettman.

You say scale it back? Nah, let’s amp it up — to 11.

Give us Cincinnati Bengals jerseys with the Exxon tiger emblazoned across the front. The New York Yankee Candles. The Fiesta Bowl turf painted yellow and red, the better to resemble Tostitos’ cheese dip and salsa. Anything for a buck. Hopefully more than a few.

Go ahead and snicker. Moan about rampant commercialization, money ruining everything. But ask yourself this: Where would you rather see those dollars go?

When Ohio State and Michigan each pockets $530,000 of SBC’s loot, that means more scholarships. Shinier weight rooms. Truly impressive athletic director golf junkets. Likewise, when the local pro club sells signage space at the bottom of its stadium urinals — trust me, it’s only a matter of time — that means more money to spend on talent. Donald Sterling exempted. Simply put, the home team gets stronger. The white hats get better. Richer, anyway, in the case of the Washington Redskins. And that’s a good thing.

The alternative? Easy. SBC keeps the cash, company stock goes up a quarter of a point and some Trump-shaming executive gets an even fluffier golden parachute. Cue “Rock ‘n’ Roll, Part II.” Stockbroker? No? Then why on Earth would you root like one?

Let’s go So-ny! Clap! Clap! Clap-clap-clap!

Closer to home, Maryland is seeking a $15million alumnus donation for naming rights to its football field. Judge not. College sports are expensive. Life is expensive. The rest of us should be so lucky. Imagine if Bud Light offered to sponsor your weekly poker game (as opposed to the other way around). You’d jump at the opportunity. Heck, most of us would be happy with a free life-size cardboard cutout of the Coors Twins. We all have a price. Nothing wrong with that.

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