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When I was just 10, I read about a story in my community gazette about the Global Air Guitar Contest, held annually every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My parents had participated at the inaugural contest starting from 1996 – mom handed out flyers, dad sorted the music. Since then, country-level contests have been staged in many nations, with the titleholders converging in Oulu each August.

Initially, I inquired with my family if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the event was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They thought it might be an overwhelming atmosphere, but I was resolved.

As a kid, I was always miming air guitar, acting out to the biggest rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. My parents were music fans – dad loved The Boss and the Irish rock band. AC/DC was the initial group I discovered on my own. Angus Young, the guitar hero, was my idol.

Upon entering the spotlight, I did my routine to AC/DC’s that classic track. The audience started yelling “Angus”, reminiscent of the concert version, and it struck me: this is what it feels like to be a guitar hero. I reached the championship, performing 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 on another occasion, but I didn't participate. I returned at 18, tested out several stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I embraced it and choose “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve reached the finals every year since 2022, and in 2023 I came second, so I was resolved to win this year.

Our global network is like a support system. The saying we live by is ‘Play air guitar, avoid battles’. It may seem funny, but it’s a genuine belief.

The event is high-energy yet fun. Contestants have a short window to put their all – dynamic presence, perfect mime, stage magnetism – on an invisible guitar. The panel evaluate you on a scale from four to six. When it's a draw, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the remaining participants: a song plays and you improvise.

Preparation is everything. I chose an a metal group song for my act. I had it on repeat for a long time. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my legs loose enough to jump, my fingers quick enough to imitate guitar parts and my upper body set for those bends and jumps. Once the event dawned, I could internalize the track in my soul.

After everyone had performed, the scores came in, and I had tied with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was occasion for an air-off. We faced off to Sweet Child o’ Mine by the rock group. When I heard the song, I felt relieved because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so thrilled to play again. When they announced I’d triumphed, the square erupted.

My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from surprise. Then all present started performing the classic tune that well-known track and raised me up on to their arms. One of the greats – alias Nordic Thunder – a former champion and one of my closest friends, was embracing me. I shed tears. I was Finland’s first air guitar world champion in two and a half decades. The prior titleholder, the earlier victor, was there, too. He gave me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “about damn time”.

Our global network is like a support system. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a real philosophy. Competitors come from many countries, and everyone is supportive and encouraging. Prior to performing, all participants shows support. Then for one minute you’re allowed to be uninhibited, humorous, the top performer in the world.

Besides that, I'm a drummer and musician in a group with my sibling called the band name, named after the sports figure, as we’re influenced by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been working in bars for a couple of years, and I direct short films and performance clips. Winning hasn’t affected my daily activities too much but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I wish it results in more artistic projects. My hometown will be a European capital of culture next year, so there are great prospects.

Currently, I’m just appreciative: for the community, for the opportunity to play, and for that young child who found a story and thought, “That's for me.”