The Tour de France is under way, and what a field it is.

There’s Pee Wee Herman, atop his beloved red Schwinn. There’s the Wicked Witch of the West, easily recognizable by the wire basket attached to her handlebars. And, of course, the blushing bride Daisy, competing in tandem with her songwriting husband on their bicycle built for two.

Sadly, the tricycle-riding oddball from the old “Laugh-In” TV show was a late scratch. It seems he was disqualified after EPO and bags of frozen blood were discovered in the pockets of his yellow raincoat.

But hey, in these troubled times you take what you can get. At this point, you suspect Tour de France organizers would take a winner’s podium of John Goodman, Jerry Lewis and Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy, so long as they tested clean.

Which, as this is written, may be asking too much.

The early returns are not encouraging. In the hours before Saturday’s prologue, the Tour de France field was devastated by the forced withdrawal of nine riders, including the four that finished directly behind winner Lance Armstrong in last year’s race.

The suspensions were issued after results of an investigation by Spanish authorities were revealed to race organizers on Thursday. The investigation uncovered a drug ring which supplied cyclists with a one-stop shopping source for substances and equipment designed to boost endurance beyond the human body’s natural capacity. Among the banished were betting favorites Jan Ullrich of Germany and Italy’s Ivan Basso.

That’s a huge blow, even for an event that has become synonymous with duplicity and scandal. How much longer, you wonder, until cycling’s signature event is considered on a par with pro wrestling and beer golf?

Meanwhile, somewhere, relaxing in a chaise lounge in the shadow of the world’s largest trophy case, Armstrong has to be thinking he got out at precisely the right time. Former rivals and the worthy aspirants to his cycling legacy are going down in a figurative pile-up, where the damage goes beyond skinned knees and bruised elbows.