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Back when I was 10, I came across a story in my local paper about the Air Guitar World Championships, which take place every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My family had helped out at the very first contest back in 1996 – my mum distributed flyers, dad sorted the music. From that point, national championships have been held all across the world, with the champions gathering in Oulu every summer.

Back then, I asked my parents if I could enter. They weren't sure at first; the show was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They thought it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was set on it.

In my youth, I was always miming air guitar, pretending to play to the biggest rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. Mom and Dad were music fans – my father loved The Boss and U2. the band AC/DC was the initial group I found independently. the lead guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my hero.

When I stepped on stage, I played my set to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The spectators started yelling “Angus”, reminiscent of the album track, and it hit me: this must be to be a music icon. I reached the championship, performing to hundreds of people in Oulu’s market square, and I was captivated. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a referee one year, and kicked off the show once more, but I stayed out of the contest. I went back at 18, tested out several stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I embraced it and make “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve reached the finals every year since 2022, and in 2023 I came second, so I was resolved to take the title this year.

Our global network is like a close-knit group. The saying we live by is ‘Play air guitar, avoid battles’. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief.

The competition itself is competitive but uplifting. Participants have a short window to give everything – dynamic presence, perfect mime, performance charm – on an invisible guitar. Judges evaluate you on a scale from a specific numeric range. When it's a draw, there’s an “air-off” between the remaining participants: a track is selected and you create on the spot.

Preparation is everything. I chose an a metal group song for my performance. I had it on repeat for multiple weeks. I stretched constantly, trying to get my limbs prepared enough to jump, my hands fast enough to copy riffs and my back set for those gestures and hops. When competition day arrived, I could internalize the track in my bones.

After everyone had performed, the scores came in, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was time for an tiebreaker. We faced off to the Guns N’ Roses hit by the rock group. As the music started, I felt relieved because it was familiar to me, and above all I was so eager to play again. Once the results were read I’d emerged victorious, the venue went wild.

The moment is hazy. I think I blacked out from surprise. Then all present started chanting the song the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and raised me up on to their arms. One of the greats – alias his performer title – a previous titleholder and one of my closest friends, was embracing me. I wept. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The prior titleholder, the former champion, was also present. He gave me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “about damn time”.

The air guitar community is like a family. The phrase we live by is “Focus on fun, not fighting”. It sounds silly, but it’s a true way of life. People come from many countries, and each person is supportive and encouraging. Before you go on stage, each contestant comes and hugs you. Then for one minute you’re allowed to be yourself, playful, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a beat keeper and musician in a group with my brother called the group title, named after the football manager, as we’re inspired by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been working in bars for a short time, and I direct short films and performance clips. Winning hasn’t altered my routine drastically but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I hope it leads to more artistic projects. Oulu will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are promising opportunities.

For now, I’m just thankful: for the network, for the opportunity to play, and for that young child who found a story and thought, “I'd love to try that.”