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Why the GP Explorer fascinates even those who don’t care about cars
- Hato Communication
- Nov 11
- 5 min read
The GP Explorer captivates. Not just race-car enthusiasts, but also people who’ve never watched a Grand Prix in their lives. To understand why, we first need to look at how the event has evolved over three editions.
1. Setting the scene: from a wild idea to The Last Race
The GP Explorer began as a somewhat crazy idea from Squeezie during Z-Event 2020: get content creators driving Formula 4 cars on the Bugatti Circuit at Le Mans, with real broadcast production and a live audience in the stands. The first edition took place in October 2022 and brought together 22 creators split across 11 teams.
From the start, the figures were absurd for a “just a Twitch live” event:
Over 40,000 spectators on-site at Le Mans for the 2022 edition.
1,044,867 concurrent viewers on Twitch, with 12.5 million cumulative views for the stream.
A budget estimated by Squeezie himself at €3–4 million for organising the event (circuit rental, broadcast production, security, driver training, etc.).
In 2023, GP Explorer 2 returned, again at Bugatti, with 24 drivers. The event stepped up again:
Over 60,000 spectators in the stands.
1.37 million concurrent viewers on Twitch and more than 21 million cumulative views — making it one of the most-watched live streams in French Twitch history.
There was no GP Explorer in 2024. Then in 2025 Squeezie announced the third and final edition, subtitled “The Last Race”, stretched over three days with concerts, a sprint race, the main race, and an even more international lineup.
2. GP Explorer 3 – The Last Race: the eye-opening figures
For The Last Race in 2025, this wasn’t just another creator project — it had become a full-blown media monster:
More than 200,000 spectators on-site over the weekend at Bugatti — a number that begins to rival certain Formula 1 Grand Prix.
On Twitch, Squeezie’s live peaked at 1,373,815 concurrent viewers on Sunday, with about 20 million cumulative views on his channel alone; across all co-streams (Pokimane, Ibai, HasanAbi etc.) the peak exceeded 1.5 million simultaneous viewers.
For the first time, the race was also broadcast on television: 1.22 million viewers on France 2 on Sunday afternoon, in addition to the Twitch audience.
Budget-wise: production costs for the third edition are estimated at over €10 million (TV production, circuit rental, security, staff, animations, concerts…) according to multiple outlets referencing Les Échos.
Ticketing generated more than €13 million in revenue, with roughly 200,000 tickets sold in just a few hours.
On top of that: 40 to 47 partner brands (Netflix, Samsung, Lego, Cupra, TikTok, etc.), with sponsorship deals ranging from “tens of thousands of euros” to seven-figure sums for the highest-exposed sponsors.
In short: without making up numbers, we’re clearly looking at an event that’s profitable — ticket sales already covering the estimated budget, plus sponsors contributing several million extra in revenue.
From there, the interesting question for the article becomes: why so many people tune in, including those who couldn’t care less about cars? Let’s drop the marketing buzzwords and look at what’s really going on.
3. It’s not about cars — it’s about people (emotional attachment)
Even though it’s called a “Grand Prix”, the GP Explorer isn’t a traditional F4 race. Most viewers have never watched an F4 race. They’re there for something else:
They already follow the creators daily: their videos, their drama, their inside jokes.
They’ve seen the months of training, the struggles, the doubts, the off-track mishaps in stories or vlogs.
They know the dynamics: friends, rivalries, personalities who make you laugh, those who stress, those who want to give it their all.
So on the big day you’re not just watching “car #27” — you’re watching Kaatsup stressing on the grid, Maxime Biaggi trying not to crash, Maghla leaving their comfort zone, Karchez going for the win.
For someone who doesn’t care about cars, it’s still compelling because:
You know the people.
You understand what this means to them.
You’ve seen the build-up, so the race is the payoff of a story you’ve followed for weeks.
It’s more like watching a season finale of a series than a standard Grand Prix.
4. A well-oiled communication machine… but very readable
Without calling it “360° strategy”, you can say the GP Explorer’s communication is simple and extremely effective:
Live announcement on Twitch, straight to the target audience.
Progressive teaser: dates, drivers, teams, concerts, then full format details.
Multi-platform: YouTube for long-form videos, Twitch for the live, TikTok/Reels for short clips, X/Twitter for instant reactions and memes.
And most importantly: the community does a huge part of the work herself (memes, clips, reactions, threads).
It’s not just a big sponsored operation:
The creators keep their usual tone.
Sponsors are visible but integrated into the universe (skins, liveries, content “in tone”).
The communication embraces what it is: a big show — no pretending it’s a traditional sports event.
For a non-motorsport fan audience, it remains understandable and accessible: you see the announcements in your feed like any other creator content. You don’t need to be “initiated” into motorsports to get in.
5. A sense of community and pride: “this is our event”
The GP Explorer, especially with The Last Race, is also a generational moment:
For many young people, it’s their first time on a real circuit.
The event was born online, not from a federation or a historic brand.
There’s a sense of “we built this together” between Squeezie, the creators and the community.
The implicit message is:
“We didn’t wait for TV to put together an event of this size.”
And the fact that France 2 broadcast the last edition also changes the symbolism: it’s not just TV legitimising creators — it’s almost the reverse: TV plugging into a phenomenon that was already massive online.
For someone who doesn’t care about cars, there’s still:
the feeling of being part of a pop-culture moment (like going to a concert or watching an e-sports final),
the satisfaction of seeing “Internet people” achieve something real, physical, offline.
6. The human factor: challenge, fear, solidarity
Finally, the real heart of it is human. We’re far from the “influencer in a studio shouting over reactions” image:
The drivers are out of their comfort zone, facing real risk and real pressure.
You see fear before the race, tears after, honest debriefs on how hard it was.
Mistakes (spin-outs, late brakes, collisions) remind you these aren’t pros — but they care.
And around this you have:
a lot of goodwill (in general, the audience wants to see people succeed),
a focus on progression (e.g. drivers who struggled in earlier editions come back stronger),
a kind-of “school sport” dimension: you see people learn, push themselves, support each other.le” : on voit des gens apprendre, se dépasser, se soutenir.
Conclusion: We’re watching people, not cars
This is exactly the kind of story that speaks to everyone, even if you don’t like motorsports:
you can identify with the stress,
you can admire the work,
you can feel the excitement of the result.