As the last accounting day looms, Celtic needs to spend. Ibrox needs to sell.

We’re now just days away from the 30 June cut-off point—the end of the football financial year, the date when clubs close their books, finalise their income and expenditure, and prepare to present their numbers to auditors, tax authorities, UEFA, and the court of public opinion.

For most fans, that date passes without a flicker of interest.

But for the accountants and directors behind the curtain, it’s one of the most important dates in the calendar. And for Celtic—who are in the black, flush with cash, and still have money from Champions League income sloshing around—it ought to be a moment of ruthless, strategic spending.

That we’re not doing it is more than just disappointing. It’s financially stupid.

Let’s explain why.

Celtic’s profits, unless reinvested in infrastructure or player acquisitions, are liable for taxation. The more profit we post tomorrow, the more we pay to HMRC. Now nobody reasonable is saying we should run the club at a loss. But there’s a basic reality to this: football clubs, particularly ones operating in a buyer’s market like the SPFL, are under no obligation to hoard cash when they could be spending it on strategic investment—especially when that investment would improve the team, win games, win trophies, and (crucially) generate more revenue later on.

In simple terms: if we don’t start spending now, before the financial year closes, we will pay more tax on profits that could have gone into the squad. That’s not speculation. That’s the tax code. So why the delay?

Some say it’s the usual caution.

The familiar tale of boardroom prudence, of waiting for player sales to trigger the opening of the war chest, of ensuring we don’t repeat past errors. That’s all well and good, but there comes a point where caution turns into cost—and we’ve passed that point. By waiting until July to start spending, we’ll be logging all those costs in next year’s books, while paying tax on the tidy profit from this year’s success. It’s like letting your bath overflow so you can mop up with £20 notes.

It’s not smart. It’s certainly not aggressive. And it stands in stark contrast to how other, more forward-thinking clubs operate. The big players don’t wait for the books to close. They plan around the date. They use it.

If you have profits you don’t want to hand over to the taxman, you spend now. You make your moves. You build your team while managing your tax burden in a responsible—but strategic—way.

There is nothing wrong with that. There is everything right with that.

Now contrast our situation with that of the club from Ibrox. They have the opposite problem. They’re not trying to reduce a looming profit—they’re scrambling to avoid logging a catastrophic loss. For them, the 30 June deadline isn’t a chance to strengthen the team. It’s a blind panic to get outgoing deals over the line before the accounts slam shut and lock in just how bad things are.

They needed to sell players—plural—by Tuesday.

As of writing, they’ve sold no-one. No Yilmaz. No Dessers. No Igamane. No Raskin. They’ve been demanding deranged sums, pricing players out of moves, and now they’re staring down the barrel of another financial year with a deficit and no guarantee of Champions League money in the coming campaign to plug the gap.

And here’s where it gets grim for them. If they don’t pull off a major sale, they’ll be left posting a hefty operating loss and that will bleed into their Financial Sustainability calculations going forward which, as we know, work on a three year rolling average. That’s how accounting works.

You can’t time-travel your way out of a black hole.

The result? Not only do they post a loss, but they also hand UEFA another set of damning financials—just months before Financial Sustainability rules start to bite harder than ever. A 70% cap on football spending as a portion of income is now the norm going forward, down from 80% last season and 90% the season before.

The corset just got tighter. A sale right now would be a blessing. From Tuesday, anyone on the books who they don’t want there becomes a genuine drag.

So, we find ourselves in this strange and ironic position.

On one side of the city, Celtic are failing to spend in a way that would reduce our tax liability and strengthen the team. On the other side, the Ibrox club are failing to sell in a way that would stop them from drifting into ever more troublesome waters. Both clubs are mismanaging the same deadline, but with wildly different consequences.

For us, the failure to spend is an opportunity missed.

For them, the failure to sell could be costly in many different ways.

If we do end up paying millions in corporation tax on profits we could have partially reinvested into a striker, or a left-back, or a replacement for Kuhn before he’s even left, then that’s not just bad business—it’s financial laziness.

The money’s there. The need is there. The moment is now. And if the board chooses to sit on its hands, then supporters are right to ask whether the people at the top truly understand the difference between short-term caution and long-term consequence. Because no one wants to see our club act recklessly. No one is calling for panic buys.

But we can afford to do something meaningful now.

Meanwhile, over at Ibrox, you can practically hear the squeak of panic. Every hour that passes without a major outgoing transfer is another hammer blow to their end-of-year accounts. It’s not just about failing to meet expectations—it’s about revealing just how shaky the foundations still are. If no big sale comes by Tuesday, their books will tell a story that no amount of spin can hide.

In a sense, the 30 June deadline is the great leveller. It reveals who’s ready, who’s smart, who’s strategic—and who’s just faking it. Right now, Celtic are coasting when we should be pushing forward. The Ibrox club are flailing when they should be flying high, because their fans were told that they would be.

Neither is a good look, but I’d still prefer to be in our position than theirs. Which isn’t to say that where we are makes any fiscal or footballing sense …