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When I was just 10, I discovered a story in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, that happens every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. My family had volunteered at the very first contest since 1996 – my mum distributed flyers, dad sorted the music. Ever since, domestic competitions have been staged all across the world, with the champions assembling in Oulu every summer.

Initially, I requested permission if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the event was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They thought it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was determined.

In my youth, I was always miming air guitar, acting out to the most popular rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My family were enthusiasts – my father loved The Boss and U2. the band AC/DC was the initial group I found independently. Angus Young, the guitar hero, was my hero.

Upon entering the spotlight, I played my set to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started shouting “Angus”, reminiscent of the live recording, and it struck me: this is what it feels like to be a music icon. I made it to the finals, playing to a large audience in the public plaza, and I was addicted. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a referee one year, and kicked off the show another time, but I stayed out of the contest. I went back at 18, tried a few different stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and choose “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve made it to the final annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was set to win this year.

The air guitar community is like a family. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It may seem funny, but it’s a true ethos.

The competition itself is high-energy yet fun. Competitors have one minute to deliver maximum effort – high-powered performance, precise mimicry, performance charm – on an nonexistent axe. Judges rate you on a grading system from a specific numeric range. If scores are equal, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the last two competitors: a song plays and you freestyle.

Training is crucial. I picked an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my routine. I had it on repeat for multiple weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my limbs flexible enough to jump, my hands quick enough to mimic solos and my back prepared for those gestures and hops. By the time the event dawned, I could feel the song in my soul.

Once all acts were done, the points were announced, and I had drawn with the titleholder from Japan, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was occasion for an tiebreaker. We competed directly to that classic rock anthem by the rock group. As the music started, I felt at ease because it was one that I knew, and above all I was so eager to perform one more time. When they announced I’d won, the area went wild.

My memory is blurry. I think I zoned out from shock. Then the crowd started singing the classic tune Rockin’ in the Free World and lifted me on to their backs. A former champion – alias Nordic Thunder – a previous titleholder and one of my dear companions, was hugging me. I cried. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in 25 years. The previous Finnish champion, the earlier victor, was there, too. He bestowed upon me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “about damn time”.

Our global network is like a close-knit group. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief. Participants come from globally, and everyone is supportive and encouraging. Prior to performing, all participants offers an embrace. Then for one minute you’re able to be uninhibited, humorous, the ultimate music icon in the world.

Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and musician in a musical act with my brother called the band name, inspired by Gareth Southgate, as we’re fans of UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been serving drinks for a few years now, and I direct short films and music videos. The victory hasn’t affected my daily activities too much but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I hope it leads to more artistic projects. The city will be a designated cultural center the coming year, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just thankful: for the group, for the ability to compete, and for that budding enthusiast who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I'd love to try that.”