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At the age of 10, I read about a feature in my community gazette about the World Air Guitar Competition, held annually every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had helped out at the pioneering contest back in 1996 – my mother handed out flyers, my dad sorted the music. Ever since, country-level contests have been held in many nations, with the champions assembling in Oulu each August.

Initially, I requested permission if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the show was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They felt it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was set on it.

During childhood, I was always “playing” air guitar, pretending to play to the most popular rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. My parents were lovers of music – my dad loved Springsteen and U2. the Australian rockers was the initial group I found independently. Angus Young, the lead guitarist, was my idol.

Upon entering the spotlight, I performed my act to AC/DC’s the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The audience started chanting “Angus”, just like the album track, and it dawned on me: this is what it feels like to be a rock star. I reached the championship, playing to a large audience in Oulu’s market square, and I was hooked. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a referee one year, and opened for the show on another occasion, but I stayed out of the contest. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and make “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve reached the finals each competition since then, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was determined to take the title this year.

The air guitar community is like a support system. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief.

The contest is high-energy yet fun. Participants have 60 seconds to give everything – high-powered performance, flawless imitation, stage magnetism – on an nonexistent axe. The panel evaluate you on a grading system from a specific numeric range. If scores are equal, there’s an “showdown” between the remaining participants: a tune begins and you freestyle.

Getting ready is key. I picked an a metal group song for my act. I played it repeatedly for weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my legs flexible enough to bound, my hands fast enough to imitate guitar parts and my back prepared for those gestures and hops. Once the event came, I could feel the song in my bones.

After everyone had performed, the scores came in, and I had tied with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was moment for an final showdown. We went head-to-head to the Guns N’ Roses hit by the iconic band. Once the track began, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and above all I was so eager to perform one more time. As they declared I’d triumphed, the venue erupted.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I zoned out from the excitement. Then everyone started singing the classic tune Rockin’ in the Free World and hoisted me on to their arms. A former champion – also known as Nordic Thunder – a previous titleholder and one of my closest friends, was hugging me. I shed tears. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in two and a half decades. The prior titleholder, the earlier victor, was also present. He gave me the biggest hug and said it was “about damn time”.

This worldwide group is like a support system. The phrase we live by is “Focus on fun, not fighting”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a genuine belief. Participants come from all over the world, and each person is positive and uplifting. Prior to performing, each contestant comes and hugs you. Then for one minute you’re able to be uninhibited, humorous, the biggest rock star in the world.

I’m also a drummer and musician in a band with my family member called the group title, referencing the football manager, as we’re fans of British music genres. I’ve been bartending for a couple of years, and I direct short films and performance clips. The victory hasn’t changed my day-to-day life drastically but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I wish it results in more creative work. My hometown will be a designated cultural center the coming year, so there are exciting things ahead.

At present, I’m just thankful: for the group, for the ability to compete, and for that young child who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I want to do that.”