In the Old School community, certain traditions stand out. For some, it’s the nostalgia of playing with — or collecting — old cards. For others, it’s the camaraderie of late-night games and beers. But then there are those who treasure something entirely different: memorabilia. From stickers to buttons to patches, these tokens capture the spirit of the game in a different way.

The Edge-Man Championship has issued an annual patch since its very first event — a small but distinctive mark of participation and pride. For years, I admired players who wore jackets covered in patches from tournaments across the globe. At first, I’ll admit, I thought the look was a bit eccentric — even nerdy. But that impression didn’t last long.

I came to see those jackets for what they truly were: wearable trophies, stitched with stories. Inspired, I set out to create my own. That meant designing a custom Edge-Man back emblem for my jacket and chasing down patches from events past and present. It was more than just a design project — it became a way to carry my Magic journey on my back, quite literally.

The appeal of patches

For me, a patch is more than a piece of cloth — it’s attendance, community, and memory all stitched together. Many collectors in Old School Magic will only sew on patches from events they’ve personally attended, and I tend to prefer that too. It keeps the jacket authentic, a true reflection of where you’ve been. But there are exceptions. Sometimes a patch goes on out of respect for a certain club of players, or to honor someone whose influence in the community deserves to be carried with you.

A jacket full of patches isn’t just decoration; it’s a conversation starter. Mine is still new and unworn, but I’ve seen it happen countless times: a glance at someone’s jacket tells you something about their story, the events they’ve played in, and their place in the community. It’s a map of experiences, visible for everyone to see.

That’s a big difference from collecting cards. Cards can be bought — nowadays, the real chase is often more about financial opportunity than discovery. Can you afford it? That’s the question. But with patches, it’s different. Most are earned by showing up, playing the games, or trading with other collectors at events. They can’t, generally speaking, just be ordered online in a few clicks; they have to be chased, traded for, and remembered. And that’s what makes it fun.

Some patches carry extra weight. My Dwarven Warrior patch, for example, comes from one of the most special annual tournaments I’ve attended. It’s hosted not at a venue, but in someone’s home — we’re welcomed into their family for the weekend. I was first invited during a difficult time in my life, and the gesture lifted my spirits in ways I’ll never forget. My first Noobcon patch was another milestone, as was my Raging Bull patch from my first Swedish Legal tournament, where Richard and others made me feel instantly at home in the community.

And yes, while the story matters, the design matters too. A patch should look as good as it feels. When the art matches the memory, that’s when it truly earns its place on the jacket.

That Old School Spirit

In Old School Magic, nostalgia isn’t just about the cards — it’s in the culture, the aesthetics, and the way we celebrate the game. Many patches in our community draw directly from the game’s early artwork, transforming iconic card art into something new and personal. Some represent a club, a local scene, or a specific tournament. The Edge-Man patch is a little different. While it’s inspired by Keldon Warlord, his look nods to the sword-and-sorcery worlds of Masters of the Universe and Conan the Barbarian. Each year, the background changes — from the Arabian Nights Mountain to the swamps behind Force of Nature — but it always needs to feel unmistakably like Magic: The Gathering.

Compared to other memorabilia, patches are a harder challenge. A playmat gives you a wide, open canvas to pour your creativity into — you can go big, bold, and detailed. A patch, on the other hand, is often just a circle about 4.5 cm in diameter. That tiny space has to hold all the spirit of the event or club it represents. Pulling that off takes skill, and when it works, the result is magic in its own right. We’re lucky in the Old School community — we’ve got some truly awesome patches.

Patches also feel uniquely tied to Old School. I’ve never seen another Magic format embrace them quite like we do. Maybe that’s because of when many of us grew up. Most Old School players were born in the ’80s, back when patches were a part of everyday life. Our parents would sew them onto worn jeans to cover holes, and band patches were a staple of rock and metal jackets. It’s a piece of pop culture we grew up with — so it makes sense that it’s become a part of our Magic culture too.

Style

Before I wrap this up, I have to mention my pride and joy — the Edge-Man back emblem. It’s the centerpiece of my jacket, and unlike most patches you see around, it isn’t printed. It’s hand-sewn by a local shop here in Tilburg, the same city where the Edge-Man Championship is hosted. The shop, Ollies, has been around for years, and they know their craft.

Starting in 2026, every Edge-Man patch will be hand-sewn by Ollies. That means our patches will carry even more nostalgia and a more refined, classy look. Hand-sewn embroidery can’t capture the ultra-fine details of a printed patch, but that’s part of the charm.

I like showing people the difference between my highly detailed original designs and the final stitched versions — sure, some detail is lost, but style and character are added in its place. The result feels less like a mass-produced item and more like a piece of wearable heritage.

Now I want to hear from you. What’s your favorite patch, and what story does it tell? Share it — the rarer, the better — and let’s keep those memories alive. If you see me at the next tournament, come say hi, check out the jacket, and let’s talk (or trade) patches.

Because in Old School, every stitch tells a story!