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When I was just 10, I came across a article in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, that happens every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My parents had participated at the inaugural contest since 1996 – my mum distributed flyers, my dad sorted the music. Since then, national championships have been held in many nations, with the champions assembling in Oulu every summer.

Back then, I requested permission if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the event was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They felt it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was resolved.

As a kid, I was always miming air guitar, acting out to the biggest rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My family were enthusiasts – dad loved The Boss and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the original act I found independently. the lead guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my hero.

As I took the stage, I did my routine to the band's that classic track. The crowd started yelling “Angus”, similar to the album track, and it dawned on me: so this is to be a music icon. I made it to the finals, performing to hundreds of people in Oulu’s market square, and I was addicted. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a adjudicator one year, and started the show on another occasion, but I didn’t compete. I returned at 18, experimented with various stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and choose “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve made it to the final every year since 2022, and in 2023 I came second, so I was set to claim victory this year.

The worldwide group is like a support system. Our motto is ‘Make air, not war’. Though it appears humorous, but it’s a true ethos.

The contest is intense but joyful. Participants have a short window to put their all – explosive energy, precise mimicry, rock star charisma – on an invisible guitar. The panel evaluate you on a grading system from four to six. If scores are equal, there’s an “showdown” between the last two competitors: a song plays and you create on the spot.

Training is crucial. I chose an Avenged Sevenfold song for my act. I listened to it on a loop for multiple weeks. I stretched constantly, trying to get my lower body loose enough to bound, my fingers quick enough to imitate guitar parts and my back ready for those moves and leaps. By the time competition day arrived, I could feel the song in my bones.

After everyone had performed, the points were announced, and I had matched with the winner from Japan, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was occasion for an air-off. We competed directly to Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. As the music started, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and above all I was so thrilled to have another go. As they declared I’d emerged victorious, the venue erupted.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I blacked out from surprise. Then all present started chanting the classic tune that well-known track and raised me up on to their backs. Justin Howard – AKA his stage name – a former champion and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I shed tears. I was Finland’s first air guitar international titleholder in a quarter-century. The previous Finnish champion, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He offered me the biggest hug and said it was “about damn time”.

The air guitar community is like a family. The phrase we live by 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. Before you go on stage, every competitor comes and hugs you. Then for a brief period you’re free to be uninhibited, silly, the biggest rock star in the world.

I’m also a beat keeper and guitarist in a group with my family member called the band name, inspired by the sports figure, as we’re influenced by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been bartending for a short time, and I create independent videos and performance clips. The title hasn’t altered my routine too much but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I wish it results in more creative work. My hometown will be a European capital of culture soon, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just thankful: for the community, for the ability to compete, and for that young child who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”