Sacramento, Calif. ? You have to watch the entire video to appreciate the speed, the danger, the prolonged recklessness of the Tyreke Evans speeding incident on May 31.

If this were a video game, someone would be dead by now.

But enough about the visceral reaction to Evans’ mischief behind the wheel. The courts and the CHP have handled the matter — the video was released Friday professionally and judiciously. The Kings’ young star didn’t receive special treatment because of his status as the region’s most prominent sports celebrity. He cooperated and apologized. He was appropriately shaken.

Nonetheless, if you’re the Kings? Break out the street signs. Slow down. Stop and think. You can’t hand Evans the keys to the franchise if he can’t control himself on the freeway. He isn’t ready to be your floor leader when he’s so oblivious to his surroundings.

True, Evans is the Kings’ best player and an amazing talent. Also true, he is an intense competitor and voracious worker, and off the court is well-liked by his teammates.

But this latest lapse in judgment, occurring less than three years after he drove an SUV involved in a fatal drive-by shooting — he was not charged — suggests a lingering lack of maturity at best and a troubling pattern of irresponsible, perhaps even rebellious behavior at worst.

The Kings were damn lucky. If another driver attempted a lane change while Evans was clipping along at 130 mph on the freeway? If, once he turned off into a neighborhood, a youngster darted onto the surface streets near the park where he was apprehended?

Lives could have been lost. Evans’ career could have been ruined. The franchise that Geoff Petrie, Paul Westphal and the Maloofs are starting to revive could have been irreparably damaged.

“It has to be a one-time thing,” an animated co-owner Joe Maloof said late Friday. “Believe me, Tyreke has been scolded by everyone. But we have to put this behind us; we have to move on.”

And how to do that? Change. Philosophically and pragmatically, the approach to the coaching, nurturing and packaging of Tyreke has to be revised.

No more sacred cows or separation. Evans isn’t Chris Webber, and he certainly isn’t Charles Barkley. He hasn’t earned superstar treatment yet. He isn’t even a winner yet. While he obliged with impressive individual stats during the 20-5-5 ticket campaign, the Kings slumped to 7-23 and dropped 11 of their final 12 games.

Yet almost from the moment Evans emerged as a major talent, the Kings altered the rules. They handed him the keys to the Mercedes. There was one set of guidelines for the prized rookie and another set for everyone else a development that caused resentment in the locker room and is among the reasons Kevin Martin, Spencer Hawes and Andres Nocioni welcomed trades.

And now, here comes 19-year-old DeMarcus Cousins, oozing ability, personality, and immaturity.

Someone has to become the adult. Like, soon. With players entering the league at an increasingly young age, there is a finite amount of time to influence careers; at some point, the kids stop listening.

Evans, 20, is merely one of dozens of young NBA stars who become millionaires before they learn to run a washing machine. They arrive with a sense of entitlement, with little college education, and often without social skills. Some, like Evans and Peja Stojakovic, have been groomed for the NBA since their early teens, their very existence micromanaged by relatives.

In the new age NBA, Westphal, Petrie and other Kings staff members thus become the quasi-parents. Imposing discipline and structure is on them.

The Kings were damn lucky, and so now, what are they going to do about it?

Slow down. Let Evans earn the right to lead. And for now, take away the keys.