The guy I made a point of looking for each time I looked out the window at France fans, appeared to be about 25. He was slouched in a “comfy chair” in the living room of an apartment across the street from me, here in Paris.

He had a French flag wrapped around his body, and he was wearing a blue, white and red fright wig and he looked silly. But, as the night went on, and the game we were watching stayed 0-0, “silly” morphed into “tense”. Very tense.

I don’t know for certain that it was him who shouted a pained “Noooo!” when Portugal scored the only goal in tonight’s European Championship final, but I prefer to think it was — even though every open window in view from this fourth-floor apartment seemed to show viewing parties up and down the street.

This was supposed to be the night of the biggest France celebration since they won the World Cup at home in 1998. (And that party went all night; I was out in the middle of it, having covered France’s 3-0 victory over Brazil.)

But Portugal, even without star Cristiano Ronaldo, who suffered a knee injury, spoiled the 2016 party plans with a 1-0 victory on a goal in the second half of extra time up at the Stade de France.

Talk about a civic buzzkill …

We were out and about during the day, and the Big Match came up a lot. It was mentioned by the pastor of the American Church of Paris … it was a constant topic at the wine bar, near the Champs, where we had lunch with family and friends. As we moved around the city we saw hundreds, thousands of French people wearing the national colors.

Police were out removing vehicles from what was sure to be the Champs Elysees celebration zone. Seemingly everyone in the city had a plan on where and how they were going to watch the match, and how involved they would get with the celebration.

As I mentioned the other day, the 1998 World Cup victory — in the same stadium where tonight’s Euro final was played — was certainly the biggest mass celebration I have witnessed. Maybe that was what VJ Day was like, in 1945. That was before my time.

We expected something just as 1998, certainly. Because France feels like it needs a party. And because France really likes its national team — when things are going well for it.

They were heavy betting favorites to win, and most of the pundits had picked them to triumph, as well.

Portugal has a competent team, but really only one elite player, Cristiano Ronaldo, and early in the match he sustained the knee injury that ultimately knocked him out of the game in the 25th minute — when he was taken off in a stretch, apparently weeping, probably both from pain and from not being to play.

Oddly, the remaining Portugal players seemed to find inspiration from seeing their captain, the three-time Ballon d’Or winner, carried off.

What had been nearly a half hour of repetitive French threats shifted towards Portugal holding their own for the rest of the first half.

France made a push to open the second half, and had a few of decent chances, compared to Portugal’s one or two … but as has happened so many times in this tournament — and the Euro championship yields pride of place only to the World Cup — one team bunkered in and the “superior” team seemed to exhaust itself trying to find a way to batter into the goal.

Ninety minutes ended 0-0, and the first 15 of extra time left the score the same.

Then a little kid playing left back for Portugal won a ball along the sidelines, and headed it forward, and it ended up with a substitute forward named Antonio Eder, and he escaped the clutching defense of a tiring Laurent Koscielny, and suddenly Eder was in space, 25 yards from goal, and he let go a heavy shot that went inside the left bar and just past the fingers of the French keeper …

And then came the forlorn cry of “Nooo!” from across the street.

I got off the coach to have a look at the half-dozen lighted apartments across from me, and saw a woman with her hands on her mouth, and an older man with his face in his hands. The kid wearing the flag and the silly win had pulled the tricolour over his face, so as not to see replays of Portugal scoring.

France had 12 minutes to get a tie and force a shootout, but by then their players seemed exhausted, both mentally and physically.

The country had seemed so sure they were going to win the championship, after getting past Germany 2-0 in a semifinal, and then Ronaldo went out … and how could France lose?

Well we saw how, and France’s biggest fans will wonder how they will ever be able to un-see the Portuguese shot rolling into the goal, and Ronaldo limping on the sideline and encouraging/castigating his teammates in the final minutes, and then the whole red-and-green Portuguese crew walking up to get their gold medals from their first major championship.

Paris (and France) has just enough Portuguese immigrants to set off a horn-honking, flag-waving celebration here in the neighborhood where we are staying, and a big crowd was at the Arc de Triomph, perhaps some of them France fans who weren’t ready to give up the idea of celebrating all night.

Now, 90 minutes after the final whistle, things are finally calming down outside. Though at times I feel like I can still hear that mournful wail of “Noooo!”