As Gabriel’s decisive penalty soared into the Budapest night sky, the chant “Sa-fo-nov, Sa-fo-nov, Sa-fo-nov” echoed through the Grands Boulevards. Fireworks lit up the sky even before the first successful attempt, Gonçalo Ramos’ opener, as if the crowd had already sensed victory. Behind the bars of packed cafés, only a few lucky fans—often towering over 1.80 meters—watched the shootout unfold on giant screens, while the rest relied on the roars erupting after each attempt.

131 arrests, nearly four times fewer than last year

The euphoric but tearful crowd soon poured onto the Champs-Élysées, despite heightened security measures. Every entrance was meticulously checked, yet revellers still smuggled in fireworks. Groups formed spontaneously to celebrate, belting out new anthems like “After all these years” or “And Ousmane Ballon d’Or”, only to scatter when CRS riot police charged with tear gas canisters.

For hours, the cat-and-mouse game between police and the estimated 20,000 revelers continued. By 11 p.m., authorities reported 131 arrests and one injured officer. While fewer than the 559 arrests recorded in 2025 when PSG triumphed over Inter Milan, tensions remained palpable. “There’s less chaos than last year, sure. But this isn’t over—let’s see how things unfold,” cautioned a CRS officer near Rue du Colisée.

Habit—or the sweltering 37°C heat—may have calmed nerves. Benji, a lifelong supporter, shrugged. “Less stress this time. We’ve been through this before.” From blaring car horns along Rue La Boétie to the Grands Boulevards littered with spent fireworks and firecrackers, the night’s excesses left clear marks. Yet the sight of two dozen police vehicles patrolling Boulevard Montmartre at 11 p.m. underscored the lingering unease post-victory.

Paris turns into a football frenzy

Never since France’s 2018 World Cup triumph had the capital seen such a packed football celebration. Hours before kickoff, tens of thousands of supporters thronged the streets, their blue-and-red jerseys a sea of solidarity. By morning, conversations across Paris—from Ivry’s cafés to the suburbs—revolved solely around the match. “I’ll watch at home. No way I’m ending up in custody for nothing,” joked an elderly fan.

With mortar fireworks and crackers still sold on Snapchat hours before the match, the signs of a wild night were undeniable. By late evening, as smoke stung their eyes on Rue du Faubourg-Montmartre, an old man turned to his neighbour and muttered, “I guess PSG won.” No doubt about it.