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When I was just 10, I read about a article in my community gazette about the World Air Guitar Competition, that happens every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My parents had participated at the pioneering contest starting from 1996 – my mother distributed flyers, my father managed the music. Ever since, country-level contests have been staged all across the world, with the winners assembling in Oulu annually.

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

As a kid, I was always performing air guitar, miming along to the iconic rock tunes with my invisible instrument. My parents were music fans – my dad loved Springsteen and U2. the Australian rockers was the original act I found independently. the lead guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my hero.

Upon entering the spotlight, I performed my act to AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie. The audience started yelling “Angus”, similar to the concert version, and it dawned on me: this is what it feels like to be a rock star. I advanced to the last round, playing to hundreds of people in Oulu’s market square, and I was captivated. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a judge one year, and started the show another time, but I didn't participate. I returned at 18, tested out several stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and choose “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve qualified for the last round annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I came second, so I was set to take the title this year.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. The saying we live by is ‘Make air, not war’. Though it appears humorous, but it’s a genuine belief.

The event is high-energy yet fun. Contestants have one minute to put their all – dynamic presence, precise mimicry, performance charm – on an nonexistent axe. The panel evaluate you on a point range from a specific numeric range. When it's a draw, there’s an “showdown” between the last two competitors: a song plays and you improvise.

Getting ready is key. I chose an Avenged Sevenfold song for my act. I had it on repeat for multiple weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my legs flexible enough to jump, my hands fast enough to imitate guitar parts and my upper body ready for those moves and leaps. By the time the big day arrived, I could sense the music in my bones.

Once all acts were done, the results were tallied, and I had drawn with the winner from Japan, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was time for an tiebreaker. We competed directly to the Guns N’ Roses hit by Guns N’ Roses. When I heard the song, I felt at ease because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so thrilled to play again. Once the results were read I’d triumphed, the area erupted.

The moment is hazy. I think I zoned out from shock. Then all present started performing the classic tune Rockin’ in the Free World and lifted me on to their arms. Justin Howard – alias his stage name – a former champion and one of my dear companions, was holding me. I shed tears. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The prior titleholder, the earlier victor, was there, too. He offered me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “about damn time”.

This worldwide group is like a close-knit group. Our guiding saying is “Make air, not war”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a real philosophy. Competitors come from globally, and everyone is positive and uplifting. Before you go on stage, all participants shows support. Then for a brief period you’re free to be yourself, playful, the top performer in the world.

Additionally, I am a percussionist and string player in a musical act with my sibling called the group title, inspired by the football manager, as we’re fans of British music genres. I’ve been serving drinks for a couple of years, and I produce independent videos and performance clips. Winning hasn’t altered my routine too much but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I aspire it leads to more creative work. The city will be a European capital of culture next year, so there are great prospects.

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