Credits: Zack Nani / Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 3.0.
In Le Mans, from October 3–5, 2025, Squeezie, aka Lucas Hauchard, closed the GP Explorer chapter with the ‘Last Race’ of gp explorer 3 to the millimeter: 24 creators in F4, 80,000 spectators at the Circuit Bugatti (Le Mans 2025), a peak of 1.4 million on Twitch and 1.2 million on France 2. Karchez wins. On the ticketing side, enthusiasm was confirmed, a sign of an event that has become an institution. Beyond the race, a handover: from the web to the institution, from a completed cycle to an open future.
In Le Mans, a Grand Farewell That Brings Together Track and Screens
The roar rolled like a happy rumor across the Circuit Bugatti du Mans. Meanwhile, the weekend opened from October 3 to 5, 2025. For this finale, Squeezie kept his bet: to converge the momentum of the Internet and the fervor of a real crowd. 80,000 spectators filled the stands and lined the track. Online, the stream peaked at 1.4 million concurrent viewers on Twitch, a French record matched then narrowly surpassed. Public television also showed up: France 2 broadcast the final, drawing 1.2 million viewers for a 10.8% audience share. The big race started Sunday, October 5 at 5:50 PM, its drama timed to the second, right up to the podium ignition.
What happened in Le Mans was more than a logistical challenge. The GP Explorer closed its story by offering a perfectly composed image of the current media landscape: creators turned drivers, artists on stage, screens everywhere, and that feeling of belonging to the same narrative despite the scattering of formats.
Lucas Hauchard, The Upscale Rise Of A Visual Storyteller
We know Squeezie, legally named Lucas Hauchard, for his meteoric rise on YouTube. He is now measured by another skill: artistic direction of total events. In three years, he turned a slightly crazy idea into a popular ritual. Through iterations, framing, and adjustments, he made The Last Race the completion of a cycle and a mirror of maturity. He shows a taste for precisely engineered setups and simple stories that adapt to the grand stage. He didn’t just gather web stars; he gave them common ground, clear rules, a visible stake, an economy of performance.
The man, who advances smiling and as a cautious strategist, did not give in to last-concert folklore. He kept an aesthetic line, pared down, almost classical. Every shot, every transition, every swell of sound seemed to answer the same intention: to tell an ending gently, to leave a memory, to open a door.
A High-Precision Mechanism Calibrated For the Spectacle
In the paddock, the organization read like a ruler. Twenty-four creators were trained in Formula 4 driving to ensure a homogeneous level and impeccable safety. Onboard cameras, the relay in the control room, lighting scenography, fades on the crowd: everything contributed to a deliberate technical gesture. Production displayed a budget estimated at €10 million, a figure put forward by several observers. However, this number should be treated with caution as it has not been officially confirmed. You could feel the hand of seasoned professional teams. Indeed, a network of sound engineers, camera operators, stage managers, and coordinators was mobilized. This mobilization contributed to the project’s success. These professionals, working in the shadows, are responsible for the success of a live broadcast.
The partner set impressed by its scale. Nearly fifty brands joined the setup. They are visible on the cars’ liveries and throughout the site’s ecosystem. The official stands and ticketing were stormed as of Saturday, to the point of causing merchandising shortages. On the mic, Doigby kept the pace and warmth, a voice recognizable among all, while social networks vibrated in unison. The spectacle exceeded the race through the piling up of signs: concerts, appearances, stage climbs, codes of rap and esports served in the same panoramic sauce.
At the Apex, a Clear and Generous Sporting Drama
The track spoke with its usual frankness. Karchez, a Spanish YouTuber and streamer, took the lead at the end of a flawlessly driven final. Kaatsup grabbed second place, Maxime Biaggi third, in a trio that fairly summarizes the event’s spirit: sporting demand, rivalrous goodwill, the joy of clean trajectories. Around them, the grid featured a cast that says a lot about the era: Léa Elui, Maghla, Baghera, Gotaga, SCH, PLK, Théodort, Mister V, Djilsi, Cocotte (YouTube), and many other home-screen regulars, plucked for a day from the fixity of webcams.
What we saw was not a parody of a Grand Prix but a paced story, with restarts, mistakes, clean overtakes. The F4s offered a theater at the level of enlightened amateurs: fast enough to impress, controllable enough to tell more than fear.
The Institution Lends Support, Or How Television Joined the Ball
That France 2 joined the party changes the value of the image. The public channel found in The Last Race a vector to attract a younger, connected audience. The signal is unmistakable: historic audiovisual media, so often described as out of the game, still knows how to play alliances and unifying events. The bet was to translate a platform-style writing into a linear framework. On screen, the compromise worked: a production that keeps Twitch’s edge and a TV narrative that sets, explains, and contextualizes.
The event thus goes beyond mere entertainment. It becomes a proof of concept. French-language internet produces exportable formats compatible with major public machines. These formats can aggregate substantial audience shares. Interventions ran across the ticker. They mixed the grammar of the story and television’s punctuation. The two worlds, long portrayed as enemies, shared the same track.
Squeezie Before His Crowd, The Measured Emotion Of A Goodbye
At day’s end, Squeezie took the floor. A few words, no more, and it was understood that the ‘Last Race’ was not a cliffhanger but a well-considered decision. He thanked people, a lot, recalled the initial ambition, the doubts, the sleepless nights. He slipped in the phrase that became a refrain: “I am proud of what we managed to do.” The sentence, simple and direct, served as a signature. There was no overplayed sobbing. The emotion stayed on the white line—clear, contained, dignified.
There was, in this farewell, something like the affirmation of a style. That of a creator who knows when to close a chapter so the story retains its poise. The voluntary, announced, assumed stop preserves the memory. It reminds us that web culture can produce short, intense, memorable cycles without relying on extended seasons.
From a Pioneering Format To a Passing Of The Torch
gp explorer 3 served as a laboratory. GP Explorer 1 and GP Explorer 2 set the scene and tested the formula, between audience records and security fine-tuning. This third edition validated the hypothesis that haunted the wings: French digital creation can cross the threshold of the institution without losing its vitality. People are already whispering about other rendezvous, other studio fictions, other hybrid sports forms. Nothing forces Squeezie to cling to the wheel. It’s likely we’ll find him on other fields of invention, where the next convergence is written. That convergence sits between streaming, music, and stage.
It’s clear: The Last Race should not be read as a surrender but as an upgrade of a personal narrative. Squeezie emerges victorious from a bet where many awaited him. He brought together trained creators, artists, and technicians around a promise kept. He offered a connected youth a shared experience, the kind people talk about long after the lights go out.
The Stage, The Backstage, What Comes Next
There remains the writing of the noise to be done. One could linger on the mixing that embraces engine violence without drowning voices. One could tell the patient work of the coaches who translated theory into measured gestures. One could detail the reinforced security and procedures that accompany every start. All of this matters because the event earned its stature through the quality of the invisible.
The concerts completed the offering, not as an extra soul but as another movement of the same symphony. At night, the stage redrew the space, the track became a backstage, and the community reformed differently, around refrains and images. The audience followed the line without dropping off. That proves the promise of a total weekend could hold. This weekend stretched across an extended twenty-four hours.
A Bridge Between Cultures, Signed In Le Mans
In Le Mans, the Internet and the public service stopped watching each other. Twitch and France 2 spoke the same language, one overflowing live, the other in linear narrative. The 80,000 present at the Circuit Bugatti are part of the same crowd fragmented by usage. Moreover, the peak of 1.4 million online and the 1.2 million on television complete that crowd. Yet all are gathered by a clear story.
These numbers matter because they consecrate a method. In three editions, Squeezie moved a format born on YouTube to institutional recognition without abandoning its tempo. The ‘Last Race’ proves a web-born project can conclude cleanly, with assumed rules, real sporting demand, and controlled staging.
Squeezie chose the end to better preserve the form. This withdrawal is not fatigue. It’s an authorial gesture: to close the loop, hand over the tool, leave follow-ups to other hands. The final standings crown Karchez (1st), Kaatsup (2nd) and Maxime Biaggi (3rd), a symbol of joyful sporting rigour. They belong to the moment. He focuses on the frame, on what allows moments to exist.
We leave the track with a simple conviction: the trilogy is finished and the story continues elsewhere. The ‘Last Race’ closes a cycle, but it opens a broader territory for Lucas Hauchard, where images that bring people together are made. In Le Mans, he put down a clean full stop. It looks like a starting line.