It's because of their apparent unwillingness to sever ties with the past that has been their undoing. Everything about the club is old and decrepit, it has become a relic from the olden days - a monument of decay and wilful negligence, from the boardroom to the stadium itself it is a reminder of a time long since gone, and they appear to have no coherent business plan in place to even attempt catching up with the rest of the 21st Century.
The fetid stench of the Pisscan and Captain Comb-Over permeates every last millimetre of the swamp, and no new manager is ever going to rid the place of their ghastly presence. The two of them will ALWAYS be there: overlooking, overseeing, as if the club were their own personal plaything, and they are sworn to protect the Pisscan's questionable legacy - hovering about like a mother hen fussing over her chicks.
It's the Pisscan's ego that will ensure the club will be treading water for years to come. When he dies they will have no choice other than to extract their collective heads from the sand and accept that time waits for no fucker.
Only when the rest of us are tucking into our mountains of jelly and ice cream will that club ever be able to shake off its past and truly think about its long-term future.