TRANMERE supporters and lovers of football literature in its many forms must prepare to say farewell to a cherished institution in the next few weeks.

Les Parry is calling time on his long-running physio’s column in the Rovers match day programme.

The multi-talented Parry is too busy with other things – such as managing the team – to continue writing one of the funniest football columns you will find anywhere.

When the new physio arrives at the club – probably some time this month – Parry says he will leave the treatment room and the creative writing behind.

Les’s reflections on the people and events behind the scenes at Prenton Park have been entertaining readers and embarrassing players and staff since the mid-1990s.

It has since become fashionable for many clubs to give the physio a page in the programme to provide insights and updates on players’ injuries.

But none of them pack a punch or a belly laugh like the original, because Parry has a uniquely likeable way of being able to embarrass his subjects in print and get away with it.

Personal appearance, personal habits, tastes, foibles and relationships are ridiculed. Personal issues that most of us would like to keep private are made fun of. Just ask the two senior players who had vasectomies a few years ago.

Players who might be heroes to young fans on a Saturday afternoon know they can be lampooned for anything they get up to in the dressing-room, or at home. Reputations are compromised. Egos are punctured.

No-one is safe: players, managers, coaches even directors and chairman. Wives and girlfriends don’t escape. Parry also lampoons himself.

It can be utterly merciless yet is always done with a touch of affection.

The column has appeared under a number of titles over the years, including “The Les Parry Rub Down”, “Rough Treatment”, “The Les Parry Treatment”. The one that sticks in the mind of many fans is “Les Parry’s Slaughterhouse”.

Anyone on the staff at Prenton Park who begins to get high ideas about themselves can be brought down to earth with a bump.

So here, for addicts such as myself and those of you less familiar with the Rough Treatment, are some random highlights.

1997 On young goalkeeper Danny Coyne:

“It is quite difficult when you have only one injured player and you have to make the conversation all the time. It is even worse when you don’t have any common interests or one of you comes from a background which is obviously closer to mediaeval Britain than the year 2000. As you know Danny is from Wales so our conversation always seems to go towards sheep and his mother cooking bread over an open fire.”

1998: On the discomfort of veteran defender Andy Thorn on a training run: “Andy throwing up whilst running around the sandhills was a great sight, especially when the other lads were trying to pass him without getting what look like foaming washing-up liquid all down their backs.”

2000: On coach Kevin Sheedy:

I can’t believe Kevin Sheedy had a go at me in the last programme for wearing women’s clothing at weekends. They are his things I wear. They are his old ones that he had outgrown so he asked me could I get some use out of them. I don’t care what old clothes I wear to do the decorating in.”

2001: On caretaker manager Ray Mathias:

“I keep questioning the value of our coaches joining in with the pros when they have a game in training. It is quite comical to watch really, although the staff probably think they look good.

“You’ve got 50-odd-year-old Ray with his shorts rolled up so high that you can see the white bits on the cheeks of his bum that have not had the advantage of 29 years of sun-bed treatment to bronze them up. Mind you, at least they are not all shrivelled up like the rest of him. When he is running around the pitch he reminds me of one of those Californian prunes.”

2001: On defender Graham Allen:

“Graham fancies himself (I could actually finish this sentence there but I’ll carry on) as a bit of a fashion icon and likes to wear Armani and Prada. But you want to see how he dresses. I am sure he goes around all the posh shops and roots through those rails in the corner of the shop that have the reduced lines that you look at and think: who the hell would wear those? Well, the answer is Graham Allen – but he would call it trend-setting.”

2002 On players’ excuses for missing training:

“Les, my nose feels as if my eyeball is going to pop out (Tyrone Loran). Les, I’d slipped on dog muck, butted a hand rail and slit my head open (Joe Fowler).

“Les, I know you tell me not to, but Tracy bullied me into it and I’ve done for my groin again (Stuart Barlow). Les, I can’t come in today because the farmer next door has just shot my three dogs for chasing his sheep and I’m too upset (Kevin Gray).”

2005 on himself:

When I first found out I was going to have a logo across the bum of my shorts I just prayed that it wasn’t that Welsh village Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogeryc-hwyrndrobwyllanttysiliogogo-gogooch. It would have been embarrassing when it all fitted on one cheek with room still there for the words Welsh National Anthem. Anyway, it turned out to be the Liverpool ‘08 European Capital of Culture logo so they settled for a panoramic view of Liverpool, from Southport to Otterspool, in half size.”

2007: “Paul McLaren has got me looking 10 years younger. He has completely rejigged my wardrobe and is giving me advice about skincare. He’s even letting me use his Lancome ‘chemical facelift for the man who wants to look younger and isn’t quite as attractive as he thinks he is’ cream.”

2008 On Shane Sherriff:

“Shane almost didn’t play today. At the beginning of the week he came in and he looked awful. He was a horrible orange colour. Everything crossed my mind from botulism to the plague or one of those diseases Aussies get from poking kangaroos where they shouldn’t poke a kangaroo. Anyway I evacuated the changing area, put a mask on, and took Shane in my car to see Dr Pillow because the School of Tropical Medicine was closed. What a fool I felt. One swipe of the pre-injection wipe and the orange colour lifted from Shane’s face. It was bloody fake tan. We’ve got a player that uses fake tan. And it was orange.”

2009. On the increasingly exotic medical treatments favoured by Premier League players:

“The scan showed the almost complete rupture of one of Alan Mahon’s ankle ligaments so it’s not surprising it is taking time. If it doesn’t settle completely in the next couple of weeks were going to send him to Outer Mongolia to have it treated by the great Mongolian faith healer and former lemonade delivery boy Dropusabottleofpopov. The treatment entails him sleeping for two nights with his leg buried to the knee in a Buddah-blessed yak’s backside. The worrying thing is that wouldn’t be a problem for Alan.”