Milano won't sleep, it belongs to Inter

Late into the night, only a thin trail of smoke from the last flare is left behind. It drifts toward the streetlights, the final echo of celebration over a day that had been electric - as vivid as the blue sky, and as intense as the long evening that followed. By then, the street-cleaning machines are already out, clearing the route of the champions. Order slowly returns where there had been hours of joyful chaos - noise, songs, flags, chants, embraces. And yet it still doesn’t feel normal. It never really does. You think back to May 2024 and suddenly you’re there again, watching Piazza del Duomo slowly empty. No one wants to leave; there’s always time to sleep later. 75,000 at San Siro, and hundreds of thousands more on the streets. Two trophies on the pitch at the Meazza, the stadium in full colour, and a crowd that never stopped singing. Pure joy and pride under the 3pm sun. An unforgettable tifo, a tribute to a team that once again delivered a season to remember. Then came the match: 90 minutes of tension before the Scudetto could be lifted. The captain had already done it all - Coppa Italia on Wednesday, Scudetto on Sunday, this time alongside the coach. The scenes had started long before kick-off. Fans gathered hours early for the team bus, arriving earlier than usual, like on all the biggest days. A preview of the procession that would later stretch through the city from 7:30pm. When the open-top bus finally emerged from the San Siro tunnel, with players, staff, trophies and flags on board, it became something almost ritualistic. Fans inside the stadium, and thousands more lining the streets, arms stretched out toward the passing bus, shouting and singing as it went by. Drone shots captured the scale of it all - streets packed solid, security trying to keep the bus moving through a wall of emotion: gratitude, pride, joy. Milano on a May night. Squares full of flags and banners. People running after the convoy had passed. The same question: “When are they coming?” Piazza del Duomo packed with fans, the balcony prepared, fireworks being set up.

And then, after more than four hours through the city, the final turn brought a roar like a goal - sudden, instinctive, impossible to describe. Because it wasn’t just a celebration. It summed up the entire season. The pressure, the doubts, the sacrifices - all of it, all at once. Fully deserved, for team and fans alike. Chants from the balcony were answered from the square. Names shouted into the night. Phones held high - “I was here” captured in every frame.

A long, exhausting day. Two trophies on the terrace, lifted to the Nerazzurri crowd as a reward for those who never give up, who never stop believing. The coach singing “Pazza Inter,” the perfect image of what it all meant. And when the square finally empties, it’s deep into the night - but a few still linger, embracing, a ball rolling around, a few last touched in a place that feels one of a kind. It was Inter’s day. And when no one was left in Piazza del Duomo, only the light of the Madonnina remained, shining above everything: “Ti te dominet Milan” - Milano, Nerazzurri.