THIS MAGIC ACT WAS TOUGH TO WATCH.

Byline: MARC STEIN 

You can be sure that Dad didn't want Earvin Johnson Jr. to see all this.

Each of the following scenes is too graphic for children:

Dad ripping the team's baby-faced star and then committing the same offense.

Dad criticizing the coach and then losing a first-round series his way.

Dad demanding a monster salary for next season, thus forcing his extended family, the Lakers, to seriously question the wisdom of re-signing him.

Very grown-up stuff, indeed.

Heck, a purple-and-gold group of young adults couldn't handle any of it.

It was the kids, ironically, who lured Magic Johnson back to basketball. Five years after his HIV-forced retirement, he wanted his 3-year-old son to have a chance to watch him play. Dad also wanted to give his ``little brothers,'' the next generation of Lakers, a better chance of winning their first championship.

He would lead them, we were told. But a reverse scenario materialized. They wound up influencing Magic. Those crazy kids.

Hopefully little EJ hasn't been paying close attention, 'cause it's a bad-time comeback story so far.

For a month, maybe two, Johnson's unretirement was legitimate bliss. Winnin' Time was back at the Forum, and so were the fans. It really did look as if Magic had instantly transformed the Lakers into a title contender.

Sadly, the illusion would be shattered by what the non-believers were predicting - jealousy. Cedric Ceballos went AWOL in March, miffed that he wasn't Johnson's 48-minute sidekick, and his four-day water-skiing excursion ultimately put the whole team on edge.

Mr. Mature included.

In spite of all that smarts and experience, Johnson couldn't resist bumping a referee mere days after chastising Nick Van Exel for shoving one onto the scorer's table in Denver.

Johnson also couldn't prevent himself from second-guessing coach Del Harris' offensive strategy - a trick Van Exel unveiled in December - after looking bad in a Game 1 loss to the Houston Rockets.

Worst of all, Johnson couldn't step up to accept the blame for the Lakers' playoff ouster after Harris altered the game plan to Magic's specifications, departing instead with more harsh words, this time directed at teammates.

``This is worse,'' Johnson said when asked to compare L.A.'s exit to 1981, the only other opening-round defeat in his career. ``This one was a little tougher, because I really thought we could win this time. Then we just started fighting with each other so much. We didn't give ourselves a fair chance.''

To be fair, we gave Johnson one last opportunity to admit that going public with his critique of Harris was a mistake.

Johnson wouldn't.

``I didn't regret that because I'm a guy who wants to win, a competitive person,'' he said. ``I just feel that if I'm supposed to be the man on this team, you have to win with me or lose with me.

``I came back and proved my point in Game 2. For me to want to take over the game and win that game, that's not disruptive.''

You read right. Earvin Sr. still doesn't see it.

As a result, it's now Jerry West who finds himself in an unfair predicament, entering what could be a no-win offseason.

Although confident that, with time, Johnson will realize that his actions played a huge role in the Lakers' collapse - ``When Earvin has a chance to step back a bit, when everyone is not breathing down his neck,'' West said - the Lakers' executive vice president is facing an unenviable decision either way.

West can pay Johnson the $10 million-plus he wants for next year, with no guarantee that his 37-year-old legs will handle a full season or that his differences with the other Lakers can be patched.

Or . . .

Risk a town uprising by letting Johnson reunite with the only coach he's probably willing to listen to anymore (Miami's Pat Riley) while the Lakers - with the help of a prominent free agent, West hopes - try to grow up on their own.

There's always the possibility that Johnson could re-retire, but it seems unlikely after his half-decade away from the game.

He'll undoubtedly look to the other MJ for guidance, and he'll discover that Michael Jordan, too, went through big-league adversity when he gave up baseball to return to the hardwood.

Jordan, you'll recall, gave himself just 17 regular-season games last spring to get ready for the playoffs after an 18-month layoff. His Bulls, title favorites now, were out in Round 2 - and everyone wrote that His Airness was finished.

After just 40 regular-season games and one playoff series - and a five-year layoff - I'm not about to make the same mistake with Magic.

He isn't finished. He's just been a bad boy.

MEMO: Staff Writer Marc Stein covers the Lakers for the Daily News.