At Chelsea managerial crises come and go as the saga of Antonio Conte’s life on the brink is currently proving once again.

At Arsenal, its one week on, one week off for many protesting fans depending on whether the team are humiliated by Swansea City or sweep Everton majestically off the park. Of course, signing Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang also helps.

Tottenham? A week without Harry Kane scoring is about as bad as things get these days.

At West Ham, however, trouble, strife, aggro and unrest seems like a permanent condition. And it is difficult to get away from the feeling that until they do something radical to change the nature and the atmosphere of the dreadful London Stadium, it is all going to carry on for a very long time.

For decades – it’s nearly 38 years since the Hammers won anything – the supporters could live without success because they knew what their club meant and what it stood for.

They wanted success, of course. But they couldn’t have it. So they carried on backing the club with extra-ordinary levels of devotion and ferocity, anyway.

Now, adrift at a new home that as might well be christened Limbo Land, those fans have lost touch with the roots which sustained them.

It is proving to be a truly toxic situation. It is becoming far more harmful than any lack of success on the pitch might be, with the levels of fury against the owners, David Sullivan and David Gold, and Karren Brady, the vice-chairman, rising by the week.

This is turning into a unique, object lesson for the rest of the game about how damaging the severing of a football club’s arteries can be - even while attendances soar and the sighting of a bold new world is proclaimed from the boardroom and the money pours in from the Premier League’s gushing taps.

It is becoming painfully clear that the soul-sapping mood of the barren and sterile new ground and its surroundings infects the fans feelings so much that every problem, setback and disappointment – be it on the pitch or in the transfer market - is magnified and intensified.

While it may be that the perceived lack of ambition in the January window – a bit harsh considering the arrival of Portuguese Euro 2016 winner Joao Mario - has prompted the latest out-pouring of anger against the board, it strikes me that the malaise among the fans is far more profound.

True enough, the scandal surrounding the sacking of recruitment chief Tony Henry following an e-mail in which he said the club didn’t want to sign any more African footballers helped ferment a familiar sense of mayhem around West Ham.

The supporters apparently consider it further evidence that the club is being run badly.

In truth, though, the sense of bewilderment and unsettlement is really focused upon the dramatic change in the nature of the club. And it’s understandable, even if there’s a sense of Catch 22 about it.

The banners on display talk of the club’s soul being stolen and of "West Ham R.I.P."

Andy Swallow, the prominent fan helping organise a protest march to be staged – with a procession of 20 hearses – before the match against Burnley on March 10 summed up the broad nature of the supporters’ anger.

He said: “We’ll get 10,000 turning up. It will be peaceful demonstration and it will be a show of unity that we want our club back.

“In an ideal world, the board would sell up and let someone else do a better job for West Ham.

“What we want is for them to admit they have made a big mistake with the stadium and the way things are being run and to come up with a plan to save our club.

“But that’s unlikely to happen.”

This captures the idea that a poison seed has been planted at the core of the club by the lunar atmosphere inside the ground at Stratford.

And that its tentacles are spreading everywhere, breeding a permanent sense of unsettlement and unhappiness.

To be fair to Sullivan, Gold and Brady, what else were they to do when offered the chance to move the club from a cramped, old – if beloved – and out-date base at the Boleyn Ground into vast new arena which had already won itself iconic status during the epic London Games of 2012?

They would have been accused of lacking ambition and vision if they had turned it down.

But it was hardly smart PR to change the club’s badge – including the crass addition of the word ‘London’ – at a time when so much heritage was already being spirited away.

Now that just looks like a marketing ploy to supposedly excite customers on football’s new global frontiers. It makes fans think that there’s a dash for cash going on at the cost of all they held dear about the club.

Business is business. But this was indelicate at best. And who came up with the pitiful name of the London Stadium by the way?

The owners are hamstrung now by the fact they don’t own the ground and can’t yet alter it to make it more suitable for football. They have said that they are prepared to pay more, but in exchange for greater control over the stadium. The rental does not, at present, look like the so-called ‘Deal of the Century’ to the supporters.

There is no doubt at all that the stadium needs a huge makeover, so fans must hope the owners can win the battle of wills with their landlords.

There is a striking lesson from recent history and the top level of the game which makes it plain that, in the end, the lack of a suitable stadium can eat away a club from within.

Juventus stuck it out for 26 years at the awful Stadio Delle Alpi in Turin (below), which always felt about as atmospheric and fervent as Moonbase Alpha.

It was a rotten concrete bowl built for the 1990 World Cup with a running track separating the fans by a huge distance from the pitch.

Attendances averaged around 51,000 before they moved in. By the time the club bolted, they had fallen to 26,000.

It was demolished in 2009 and nobody shed any tears. It was replaced by the brilliant new ground now known as Juventus Stadium (below), which staged the 2014 Europa League final.

One effect of the re-build was that it helped Juventus move on after the shame of their relegation to Serie B following the infamous Calciopoli scandal.

Another is that they have won six consecutive titles since moving in and have reached two Champions League finals.

No, the Hammers won’t win six league titles if they sort out the stadium. And the Champions League? As the terrace song goes, you’re having a laugh.

But if a club as vast as Juventus could be brought so low by the nature of its surroundings, West Ham could be in even bigger trouble in a couple of decades time. And that’s despite the fact their income currently places them among the top 20 earners in the game.

So the lesson about the ground is clear. And if it needs drumming home, there’s a fact of enormous serendipity and significance in the mix of this debate, too.

Who were the visitors to the London Stadium in August, 2016 for the official opening friendly?

Juventus. Enough said.