West Ham United are leading 2-0 in a huge, must-win, final-day, do-or-die Premier League relegation clash.However the 60,000 fans in attendance aren’t singing any of their favourite songs about the team, or about any of the players. They’re not even nervously checking for updates from Tottenham Hotspur, where only a defeat for the home team will save West Ham from the drop.“You’ve sold our soul, for this s***hole,” they chant instead, on repeat.It’s a moment in time that encapsulates how West Ham have unravelled.This is a deeply fractured club, with an angry, disillusioned fanbase, a vacuous, corporate bowl for a stadium and a flawed, underperforming team heading for the Championship.West Ham are completely broken.It really didn’t have to be this way. West Ham have advantages that the majority of clubs across English football could only dream of.Last season they generated £238million in revenues, the ninth highest in the Premier League (and 20th across Europe).They can afford to pay wages worth a combined £172m to their players, the ninth highest in the Premier League (and 17th across Europe).In the past five years they have spent £654m on players, with a net spend of £317m in the past five years being, yep, you guessed it, the ninth highest in the Premier League.And they have the second highest attendances in the country with an average this season of 62,341 which is more than Arsenal, Manchester City, Liverpool, Spurs and the rest of the land, bar Manchester United.Oh and they didn’t even have to spend hundreds of millions or even north of a billion to build their stadium, something which arguably held fellow London clubs Arsenal and Spurs back years. Instead West Ham rent their stadium, which was constructed for the 2012 London Olympics, in return for a few million a year (sometimes for next-to-nothing).Taty Castellanos speaks to supporters after West Ham’s relegation (Photo: Charlotte Wilson/Offside/Offside via Getty Images)Moving from their beloved, small(er), tight Upton Park home in 2016 to the barren corporate wasteland that is the London Stadium was supposed to be the catalyst for West Ham to join their big capital neighbours in the top echelons of English football.Swapping community for corporality, spirit for banality and a sense of belonging for a feeling of emptiness in a vast, wide-open bowl that for the rest of the week belongs to someone else might have been worth it, might have been stomach-able had success, with attendances going up more than 20,000, followed.It briefly did when West Ham won the Conference League in 2023, but otherwise it’s pretty much just been more of the same; relegation battles, mid-table obscurity and now, like in 2011, relegation.Hence the “you’ve sold our soul, for this s***hole,” chant, which is normally directed at them from the London Stadium away end.However, the stadium has nothing to do with West Ham being relegated in 2026. Instead, the reasons for West Ham’s unforgivable failure can be found chiefly via shoddy recruitment.In recent years hundreds of millions have been wasted on players who have made little-to-no impact on the team, with the likes of Gianluca Scamacca (£33m), Nayef Aguerd (£30m), Maxwell Cornet (£17m), Edson Alvarez (£33m), James Ward-Prowse (£29m), Maximilian Kilman (£40m) and Jean-Clair Todibo (£34m) all classed as failures.Managerial changes have been odd, from ditching the man who led them to that European triumph, David Moyes, to hiring Julen Lopetegui as his replacement (a man with a very different football philosophy) and pitting him alongside a director of football in Tim Steidten whose tenure went so badly he was once banned from the training ground.Steidten left in January last year but still hasn’t been replaced, with co-owner David Sullivan effectively the de facto director of football in overseeing player negotiations.That is one of the many reasons fans furiously turned on Sullivan en masse on Sunday as relegation was confirmed.“I wasn’t around in the Championship the last time in 2012,” a young staff member says to her older counterpart shortly before kick off against Leeds United on the final day of the season.“Well you’ll get to know what it feels like today,” he replies.It’s safe to say the mood at London Stadium isn’t one of optimism. West Ham have lost three in a row to drop back into the relegation zone at the worst possible time (they were seven points adrift of the safety line in January and no fewer than 13 behind Spurs, but despite rallying in the spring have dropped down again).The irony of needing a favour from Moyes, now in charge of Everton, is too painful to be funny, and while Leeds fans turn up in party mode having secured their safety a few weeks earlier, West Ham’s supporters look and sound like they’re preparing for a funeral.In the build-up to kick-off, while the fans carry a deep sense of foreboding, the club carries on with blissful ignorance of what lies ahead, with a DJ putting on a 15-minute, sun-kissed progressive house set blissfully out of keeping with the metaphoric dark, stormy cloud hanging overhead. Pre-match fireworks and fire and a joyful presentation to player of the season Konstantinos Mavropanos only add to the sense of surreal.West Ham’s players tour the pitch after relegation (Photo: Peter Tarry/PA Images via Getty Images)There is a sense of fear, dread and acceptance in the stands, with only the slightest thread of hope to pull on. Spurs could lose, sure, but are this West Ham side even capable of victory themselves? It feels like turning up to take your driving test knowing you can’t reverse park.The first half is utterly dreadful. West Ham sit in and look for goals on the break or via set pieces, but Leeds dominate. Playing it backwards earns groans. Patience has been left at the turnstiles.A refrain of, “Stand up if you hate Tottenham,” has most of the stadium on their feet at West Ham, before Leeds fans immediately reply with, “Stand up if you’re going down,” putting everyone back on their seats again.As Leeds miss big chances and West Ham do little but give the ball away, groans turns to boos, which are loud as the half-time whistle blows. ‘If the Kids are United’ by Sham 69 plays as the players are booed off and, honestly, you cannot accuse West Ham of not trying to put the most ludicrous of brave faces on a desperate situation. “If the kids are united, then we’ll never be divided,” blaring out among the discord adds a thick layer of farce to proceedings that will continue all afternoon.The introduction of Callum Wilson at half-time helps transform the team, who are much better in the second half and take the lead through Taty Castellanos. However, with Spurs winning, it all feels irrelevant.An air of defiance suddenly engulfs the stadium, with the majority chanting and clapping not for the club, but for themselves and the West Ham name.Then they turn their attention to Sullivan. “Sack the board,” they chant around the ground and then, after Jarrod Bowen makes it 2-0, pretty much everyone turns towards the posh seats where Sullivan is sat, even if it means facing away from the pitch, singing, “You’ve sold our soul, for this shithole,” as well as derogatory personal chants towards the co-owner. United in disdain.Supporters direct their feelings towards the directors’ box above them (Photo: Richard Pelham/Getty Images)Spurs are still winning, a miracle isn’t on the cards. As Callum Wilson makes it 3-0 with the last kick of the game, the stadium announcer unleashes a cry of, “CALLLLUUUMMM WILLLSSSOOOOONN,” completely in keeping with the baffling lack of appreciation of the utterly grim, catastrophic situation that is unfolding. Some people haven’t even stood up to acknowledge the goal.“West Ham, thank you so much for your support this season, brilliant as always,” the announcer adds (to boos) shortly after the club’s relegation has been confirmed before, genuinely, they start playing ‘Movin’ on Up’ by Primal Scream.It’s an absurd end to an utterly surreal day, which reflects a total lack of self-awareness, humility or recognition as to just how badly West Ham have failed their many loyal supporters, not just today but for much of the past decade.The club posted a statement on Sunday night, which spoke of that failure, of not repaying the backing of their supporters and of the values and traditions of the club’s roots. As the light faded on the huge Brewdog sign at one end of an empty, Championship-bound stadium, those words could not have felt more hollow.They may return to the top flight before long, but it will take some time — and many, many changes — for fans to believe in their club again. They sold their soul for the Championship.