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Back when I was 10, I came across a feature in my local paper about the Global Air Guitar Contest, which take place every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had helped out at the inaugural contest back in 1996 – mom distributed flyers, my father managed the music. Ever since, domestic competitions have been staged globally, with the titleholders gathering in Oulu annually.

At the time, I requested permission if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the show was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They believed it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was set on it.

As a kid, I was always performing air guitar, miming along to the most popular rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. Mom and Dad were lovers of music – my dad loved Bruce Springsteen and U2. AC/DC was the original act I discovered on my own. Angus Young, the guitar hero, was my hero.

Upon entering the spotlight, I did my routine to AC/DC’s that classic track. The crowd started chanting “Angus”, just like the concert version, and it hit me: this is what it feels like to be a guitar hero. I reached the championship, playing to a large audience in the town square, and I was addicted. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a judge one year, and started the show another time, but I stayed out of the contest. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I embraced it and make “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve qualified for the last round each competition since then, and in 2023 I came second, so I was set to win this year.

The air guitar community is like a support system. Our guiding principle is ‘Play air guitar, avoid battles’. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy.

The contest is intense but joyful. Participants have one minute to give everything – explosive energy, precise mimicry, rock star charisma – on an imaginary instrument. The panel rate you on a scale from 4.0 to 6.0. In the case of a tie, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the last two competitors: a track is selected and you improvise.

Training is crucial. I picked an Avenged Sevenfold song for my performance. I had it on repeat for weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my legs loose enough to leap, my hands quick enough to copy riffs and my spine set for those gestures and hops. Once competition day arrived, I could feel the song in my being.

When the show concluded, the scores came in, and I had tied with the Japanese champion, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was moment for an final showdown. We faced off to Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. Once the track began, I felt at ease because it was a tune I recognized, and more than anything I was so eager to have another go. As they declared I’d won, the square went wild.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I blacked out from the excitement. Then everyone started performing Neil Young’s that well-known track and hoisted me on to their arms. A former champion – AKA Nordic Thunder – a former champion and one of my closest friends, was embracing me. I cried. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The earlier winner from Finland, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He offered me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “about damn time”.

The air guitar community is like a family. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a real philosophy. People come from many countries, and everyone is positive and uplifting. Before you go on stage, all participants comes and hugs you. Then for 60 seconds you’re free to be yourself, silly, the top performer in the world.

Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and string player in a musical act with my sibling called the band name, named after the football manager, as we’re inspired by British music genres. I’ve been working in bars for a short time, and I create independent videos and song visuals. The victory hasn’t altered my routine significantly but I’ve been doing a extensive media, and I aspire it results in more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a European capital of culture soon, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just grateful: for the group, for the chance to perform, and for that budding enthusiast who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”