Quite a few years ago now, I spent many an exciting Saturday afternoon squeezed into the infamous chicken-coop that goes by the name of the East End Park press box.

Back then, in relative terms, Dunfermline Athletic seemed to have a large and boisterous support, and the old stadium would reverberate to these Fifers' passion for their club.

Inside East End Park, a bit like the ghosts that line the walls inside Pittodrie, were pictures of misty 1960s nights, when the club were in Europe and boasting terrific players like Charlie Dickson, Alex Edwards and Alex Smith.

We can get overly lyrical about all this, but I used to stand and stare at these images, being reminded again of the rich heritage of Scottish football.

Not any more. Dunfermline are at death's door and everyone is casting around for blame. The club's structure is complicated, with its now-painful relationship to Gavin Masterton and his 100% owned Charlestown Holdings, a parent company which is feeling the pinch. Fans want the club and its owner to be separated.

Meanwhile, club legend Jim Leishman has been hired to, in essence, take the collection bucket out into the community, with little cash reserves and bills mounting. An imminent share issue must raise £300,000 minimum.

Why are Dunfermline in such peril? And why has a current supporter base, to the naked eye, been so watered down compared to, say, 20 years ago? It seems a mystery given the local Fife economy isn't so bad, with the nearby Rosyth dockyard winning new contracts, and the second Forth crossing promising a further economic boost.

"It is true that our fanbase has been eroded – and that comes down, I believe, to Gavin Masterton," says Donald Adamson of The Pars Community, an alliance of Dunfermline fans.

"The fact is, over the years he has chased the corporate pound and the ordinary fan, the Ordinary Joe, has not really felt encouraged by the club. There used to be 20-plus Dunfermline Athletic supporters clubs in the 1990s. Today, I'm guessing there are maybe three or four."

Adamson is part of a group which is trying to convince Masterton to give up his majority shareholding.

And in the midst of this raging fire is Jim Jefferies, the Dunfermline manager. As if the economic ravages of Kilmarnock were not enough, let alone the antics of Vladimir Romanov during Jefferies' 19-month stint in his second tour at Hearts, here he is presiding over the death-throes of one of Scotland's most famous clubs.

"I've never regretted for a moment coming to Dunfermline," said Jefferies yesterday. "This is a great club, with great people and great supporters. But there is no point in beating about the bush. Unless money can be found, and quickly, this club will fold."

Dunfermline are in a chaotic ferment, and many, perhaps harshly, are pointing the finger at Masterton, the club's long-time benefactor. In a complex web, roughly £6m of Dunfermline's £8.6m debt is owed to East End Park Ltd, one of Masterton's companies, which owns the club's stadium.

Many fans feel anger towards Masterton who, together with his two daughters, Karen Masterton and Tracey Martin, had sat on the club's beleaguered board. All three stood down this week.

The fact remains that Gavin Masterton loves the club, can boast over half a century of supporting the side, and has been a Dunfermline underwriter for many years. But the arrangement, via his own business troubles and a severe lack of cashflow, has gone horribly wrong.

"The fact is, if the holding company could help the club, then surely it would," says Adamson, who says Masterton needs to give up control, for the sake of the club. "But it doesn't – or it can't – which tells its own story."

Jefferies says the saga of Dunfermline's disintegration has gnawed away at him for months. "At first it was all just rumbling away in the background," he says. "I was being told repeatedly that money was coming into the club, that 'a big cheque' was due to be received from somewhere which would put us on an even keel. But it never happened.

"I've got players here earning £400 a week. And if I have to balance the budget, which might mean getting someone else in on £500 a week, then I have to find a kid somewhere who can go on £300 a week.

"With the cutbacks and wage-percentages currently being paid, I know one or two Dunfermline players who are receiving £60 or £70 take-home right now, believe it or not. I've had some players telling me, 'gaffer, I can't afford to put the petrol in my car to come in to training.' The players feel low and have been pretty hurt by it all."

One of my favourite memories in the game is Jefferies landing the 1998 Scottish Cup for Hearts at a sunlit Celtic Park, ending the club's 36-year thirst for a trophy. He has been one of Scottish football's fine club managers of the past 20 years, a fire-fighter at times, but doesn't he dread all this right now?

"When I took on this job I told the board that I wanted to build something for the future at this club," he says. "Well, right now all that is on hold.

"This has still been a great experience for me. I'm glad I came to Dunfermline. It is a great club with great people, and the fans have been very good to me. In terms of the football I got no interference at all from either Gavin Masterton or John Yorkston.

"But what has happened recently has obviously affected everyone. It looks pretty straightforward to me. Money must come in, either via the share issue or from somewhere else. Otherwise, the club will fold."

There is a further irony. Jefferies is now a partner in adversity with Leishman, an East End Park legend, but the man whose career Jefferies effectively finished when the pair clashed accidentally over the ball, leaving Leishman with a broken leg, in a Hearts-Dunfermline match all of 40 years ago. Even given that backdrop, the two men like and admire each other, though Jefferies believes Leishman now faces the task of his life as chief fundraiser for the club.

"I've said to Jim, 'let's see the response you get and hope for the best'," says Jefferies. "I don't think any of this is Jim's fault and in one sense he can't lose: he'll either be a hero in turning this club around or, if he can't, he'll be blameless. Jim Leishman is a legend in these parts but the facts are the facts – there might not be a club here next season. If we can't raise the money, the club won't survive. This share issue that is being launched has to succeed."

Last night a fans-group led by Adamson and The Pars Community were hoping to persuade Gavin Masterton to give up his 94% stake. Even then, though, a sum of up to £500,000 has to be found quickly.

Forgive my nostalgia. I crave the old times at East End Park. They were good fun.