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Back when I was 10, I read about a article in my community gazette about the Global Air Guitar Contest, which take place every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My family had participated at the very first contest starting from 1996 – my mum gave out flyers, dad managed the music. Ever since, domestic competitions have been organized in many nations, with the titleholders converging in Oulu each August.

Back then, I inquired with my family if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the show was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They believed it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was set on it.

As a kid, I was always performing air guitar, pretending to play to the biggest rock tunes with my invisible instrument. Mom and Dad were lovers of music – dad loved The Boss and the Irish rock band. AC/DC was the original act I found independently. Angus Young, the frontman guitarist, was my inspiration.

Upon entering the spotlight, I played my set to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The spectators started chanting “Angus”, similar to the live recording, and it dawned on me: this must be to be a guitar hero. I made it to the finals, playing to hundreds of people in the town square, and I was hooked. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a referee one year, and started the show once more, but I didn't participate. I returned at 18, tested out several stage names, but everyone still referred to me as “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and choose “The Angus” as my performance alias. 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 worldwide group is like a close-knit group. Our motto is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It may seem funny, but it’s a genuine belief.

The event is high-energy yet fun. Participants have 60 seconds to give everything – high-powered performance, flawless imitation, performance charm – on an invisible guitar. The panel score you on a scale from four to six. If scores are equal, there’s an “air-off” between the last two competitors: a song plays and you create on the spot.

Getting ready is key. I chose an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my routine. I listened to it on a loop for a long time. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my legs flexible enough to jump, my digits nimble enough to imitate guitar parts and my spine set for those bends and jumps. When competition day came, I could feel the song in my bones.

After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was occasion for an tiebreaker. We faced off to that classic rock anthem by the rock group. Once the track began, I felt at ease because it was one that I knew, and above all I was so thrilled to play again. When they announced I’d triumphed, the square erupted.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I blacked out from the excitement. Then all present started singing the song that well-known track and lifted me on to their shoulders. Justin Howard – also known as Nordic Thunder – a past winner and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I cried. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in two and a half decades. The prior titleholder, the earlier victor, was there, too. He bestowed upon me the biggest hug and said it was “about damn time”.

The air guitar community is like a support system. Our guiding saying is “Focus on fun, not fighting”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a real philosophy. People come from many countries, and each person is supportive and encouraging. As you prepare to compete, all participants shows support. Then for a brief period you’re allowed to be yourself, humorous, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a beat keeper and guitarist in a group with my family member called the Southgates, referencing the football manager, as we’re influenced by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been serving drinks for a short time, and I produce mini movies and song visuals. The title hasn’t altered my routine too much but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I aspire it results in more artistic projects. The city will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are promising opportunities.

Currently, I’m just thankful: for the community, for the ability to compete, and for that little kid who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”