Last season we suggested Blayney chickity-check themselves before they wreck themselves and ditch the figure-hugging, Big-Bananaish, mustard and emerald outfits for something easier on the eye.

Why not something in a nice magenta, or baby beige?

Instead, in Wednesday’s Royal Hotel Cup opener, they rolled out the biggest fashion faux pas since Jacobim Mugatu’s Derelict campaign by mimicking two Orange club’s kits.

Firstly, they channelled Orange City by wearing white and bottle green shirts to bat in.

Then they donned shirts of Centrals red and black to field - the nerve of this team! 

In fact, the act was so convincing Centrals president Nick McGrath was sighted yesterday trying to convince ODCA supremo Mark Frecklington that it was in fact his side which beat Wanderers.

A source close to Cricki Leaks overheard McGrath say, “come on Freck, Jase Corby is more likely to ride a winner in the Melbourne Cup than we are of winning a Royal Hotel Cup game, just let us have this one.”

While on Centrals, it’d be amiss of us not to mention Barney Davis’ feats of the weekend gone.

All brilliance and bemusement - what a man.

The whirlwind allrounder mustered the kind of nous most would marvel over in nailing a remarkable seven in one blazing scoring shot, but then failed to recognise the mini fridge he earlier hooked up to his vehicle would slowly drain the life out of his car battery.

The six-and-a-half hours said fridge spent cooling his red coolie was apparently worth it though - you can ask Mark Hayman.

Lucky Centrals’ clash against Cavs is a two-dayer, Davis’ steadfast refusal to give up on a battery now known as dodo should ensure he’s the first red and black’s lower grader on the scene tomorrow.

Finally, a dishonourable mention for Orange City opening batsman Jason Beasley.

Don’t leave balls that pitch on middle and aren’t turning, champ, they have an odd tendency to clean bowl you.

Reportedly Beasley spent 30-odd minutes in the shed pondering the dismissal afterward.

Get your priorities right, that’s time which could be spent text messaging non-cricket mates about that night’s festivities. Or getting a Tinder date.