Last season’s Celtic summer window delivered quality whatever its critics might claim.

Last season ended on a sour note. But we were penalty kicks away from a domestic treble. We were penalty kicks away from calling it one of the most successful seasons in our recent history—and when you consider how rich our recent history has been, that’s a hell of a statement to be able to make.

And we were almost able to make it.

We weren’t just the best team in Scotland last season. We made strides in Europe too. And not just small strides. The performance in Munich was out of this world—and especially impressive coming off the back of a great performance away in Bergamo, which itself came after a dreadful night in Dortmund. That result could easily have haunted the whole campaign. But it didn’t. Because this team is made of stronger stuff than that. It is resilient. It is tough. And Rodgers has moulded one hell of a good unit.

And yet everywhere I look right now, there’s a perception being pushed. A perception. You remember what I’ve always said about that word? Perception is not reality—but it can become reality if it goes unchallenged.

And so far, it’s only a handful of us who seem to be challenging it.

That perception is this: that last summer we failed. That last summer we overspent on uncertain players. Three players in particular.

And I wonder—whose interests does it serve to make that suggestion? Who benefits from letting that take hold?

Enemies of the club are delighted with that perception. Because that has fans questioning the judgement of the manager. There are people inside the club who might be pretty pleased with it as well, in part because they didn’t trust the manager and they didn’t want us to buy Adam Idah, Austin Trusty or Arne Engels.

In fact, they did everything they could not to buy Idah . It was only when Kyogo got injured and their hand was forced that they finally did it—and at that point they had to overspend. Because Norwich, who rightly felt insulted by our dithering and lowball offers, knew we were desperate and squeezed us accordingly. That risk was so obvious that this site—and others—were screaming it from the rooftops all summer.

I always said we overspent on Idah. And not because he’s not a good player. It’s because if you’re spending £9 million on a striker, you should get someone better than Adam Idah. But that doesn’t mean he’s a waste of money. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been a good buy for Celtic. By any measurable standard, Adam Idah has been a good signing—and a very important cog in the Celtic machine.

Without his goals in the latter part of Rodgers’ first campaign, there would have been no league title. No Champions League football. No Scottish Cup Final late winner. Idah’s goals last season—some of them were important. At least one Adam Idah moment was critical.

His run onto the ball against Young Boys was as perfectly timed as Kyogo’s three offside runs in that game were badly timed. He didn’t get the goal that night, but that was an Adam Idah winner—no two ways about it.

And I’ve said this before, and I’ll keep saying it until the blood runs out of my face—his goals against Villa in the game that followed, a game our board of directors had written off the moment they sold Kyogo after the Young Boys game, were European-level, elite-level goals. An elite-level performance from him.

The fact we even got to the second Champions League stage? You can thank Adam Idah personally for that. And he went all in to make sure we went even further. That night against Villa, we could have finished higher in that group. We could have got an easier draw—if the board had shown even half the commitment and drive that Idah did. He was not a failure.

Neither was Arne Engels.

Arne Engels is certainly the best Belgian midfield player in Scotland right now, and I think he’ll continue to grow in stature for as long as he’s at Celtic Park. I don’t even doubt that. Engels didn’t have a spectacular season—but what is a spectacular season in the Celtic midfield? He’s not a goalscoring player—although we spent the first half of the season trying to turn him into one. And you should consider that before you label him a disappointment.

He spent the first half of the season playing in a position that’s unfamiliar to him, because someone at the club—i.e., the manager—decided to try and reshape him. But Rodgers didn’t do that for nothing. He sees in Engels the kind of creative spark that makes a great attacking midfielder. I won’t be surprised if he keeps trying to develop that in him. Or maybe he’s learned that Engels is better in the engine room, running the whole show.

Either way, you’re going to see a better player this season than you did last season—because that’s how it often works. Overpaid for Arne Engels? Nobody can say that. And if he had signed for Ibrox, no one would dare.

A player’s value isn’t measured in his transfer fee—or even what you can sell him for. It’s measured in what he does on the pitch. And no one who looks at what we got for our money in Adam Idah can doubt that he’s repaid the transfer fee over and over. In time, Arne Engels will repay his. He will dazzle us.

Auston Trusty is a slightly different ball game.

I’ve been a little disappointed in what we’ve gotten from him—but I can tell there’s a very good footballer in there. And anyone looking at this dispassionately—anyone not swept up in the current narrative—would agree.

There were flashes of excellence in Trusty last season. He had some outstanding displays in Europe. And yes, he didn’t always turn in stellar performances. And yes, the manager at one point questioned his mentality. But that’s not shocking. He’s a brand-new signing, in a brand-new league, with brand-new teammates, in an environment he never imagined. I’m willing to cut him some slack. He has a big part to play this year.

Enemies of the club want to paint last summer’s transfer window as a disaster. They want fans questioning our own footballers, demanding more from them even when they’re turning in perfectly solid displays.

But there’s another group with skin in this game—those who want to undermine Brendan Rodgers. And some of them might want to do that because they don’t want to spend big again. They don’t want to give him a proper transfer fund. Maybe they believe he won’t stay beyond this contract.

But that’s not an excuse. That’s not valid reasoning. Their job is to back the man who’s in the job right now. They can sulk if they like—but that is the wrong way to look at this.

And let me tell you something—they don’t get to criticise Rodgers, no matter what they think he did with their money.

The £20 million of undiluted garbage they handed him in 2023 in a single transfer window removes from them any such right.

And let’s not forget—this isn’t the first Rodgers window where his plans were thwarted. One earlier version of this played out when we failed to sign a single one of his targets—including John McGinn, which was like pushing on an open door.

The people who presided over the 2023 summer window fiasco have no business, no right, and zero credibility when they question Rodgers about the 2024 signings. And nobody who backs them or believes in their “strategy” has any credibility to do so either.

Rodgers has forgotten more about football management than these people will ever know.

Last season we took giant strides—at home and abroad. We played some of the best football I’ve seen from a Celtic side in years. And no one will get away with calling last summer’s signings a failure and keeping a straight face. Every one of those players made a vastly bigger contribution than any of the 2023 signings have—or ever will.

That’s what their “strategy” bought us.

Brendan Rodgers won us four trophies out of six. His eye for a player didn’t just get us Nicholas Kühn—but is the reason we’re in the black before we’ve written a single big cheque. That has more than covered the “extra” cost of all the players he signed. On top of that, he personally transformed Matt O’Riley from a very good, functional midfielder into a £30 million player who we sold at another enormous profit.

To criticise that man’s judgement is laughable.

To criticise that man’s judgement while defending the judgement of others at our club?

That’s contemptible.