longevity — not only as arguably the greatest player the game has known, but as the power player in the NBA, entering Year 22.

And it was, by definition, historic. Never before been done. Never, ever.

Now, for the Lakers’ sake, hopefully it won’t be done again for a while — because at this point, Bronny shouldn’t be touching the court unless the game is out of hand, and LeBron shouldn’t be touching the court if the game is out of hand.

But that it happened at all with four minutes to go in the second quarter Tuesday? I don’t know what kind of way you feel about it, but it was ... what it was. Predictable. Unsurprising. Expect the expected. And in the grand scheme of things, fine — it’s basketball, not international diplomacy. They’re playing a game, not operating on anyone.

LeBron got his son a job in the family business and how you feel about it doesn’t matter to him; he’s having fun.

And LeBron James is King.

All hail the King. Long live the King. Long play the King.

You think the Lakers were going to put their foot down and say, “Nah, ’Bron, don’t think we can. The back of our roster is shaky enough without adding a big-name project in the 15th slot ...” Why would they? So LeBron could head off to any of the other teams that would have been willing?

Better to steady the bat signal that’s going out to any and all future kings who might someday venture west, in case Victor Wembanyama, or Giannis (and Thanasis) Antetokounmpo or Anthony Edwards should get to thinking about sitting on the throne in L.A.

Treating superstars like royalty is absolutely on brand for the Lakers, who didn’t hesitate to hamstring themselves salary-wise by making an aging Kobe Bryant the highest-paid player in the league. And who weren’t going to blink at rostering two Jameses — both of whom are stars, for what it’s worth (a lot).

Millionaire influencers making millions of social media impressions daily. Making news. Moving merch. Selling more Summer League and South Bay tickets than any other more-talented newcomer would. Can’t deny that Bronny has some of his dad’s dial-moving chops. He was half the reason the crowd rose with them in unison Tuesday, cell phones out, recording for posterity.

That’s understandable. But it’s also understandable why common folk aren’t necessarily going to just go along with the notion that Bronny — who so far has been out-hustled by hungrier prospects and outsmarted by savvier ones, outmuscled by bigger guys and outplayed by basically anyone with NBA bonafides – has earned this rarefied opportunity all on his own.

Why the public at large might not be keen to focus its discourse on the new fall colors of the emperor’s birthday suit.

Why the back-to-back lobs LeBron is envisioning that he and Bronny could throw down won’t feel quite like watching Ken Sr. and Ken Jr. going yard in consecutive big league at-bats against the Angels in 1990.

“A pretty good father-son duo right there,” said Stan Van Gundy, one of TNT’s color commentators Tuesday, talking about the Griffeys. “Not bad,” deadpanned Ian Eagle, the play-by-play man whose 27-year-old son, Noah, is a young broadcasting star, the former Clippers radio voice who called the Olympic basketball action on NBC this summer.

Trying to fit the Griffeys’ feel-good narrative, organic and magical as it was, into the round hole that is the Lakers’ hoop only ups the colossal pressure on LeBron’s oldest heir, who by all accounts is proving professional and coachable on the job. Bronny got to work officially Tuesday by clocking in for those three innocuous minutes, collecting a rebound and missing his first couple of looks.

As family stories go, they aren’t the same. But history is history.