Playing against the freshly established second line of the Edmonton Oilers is like to visiting the dentist: you’ll be treated by three dentists simultaneously, and they’ll all be angry with you.
The first one can injure you just as easily with a sharp-angle one-timer as he can with a two-hander across the back of the knees because he is just as talented with the tools as he is grumpy. He truly is a good man; he simply dislikes rival athletes.
The second dentist despises rival players and finds that a simple smack in the mouth solves most of his troubles. He occasionally scores hat tricks as well.
The third person has a PhD in needling and takes great pleasure in giving you jabs when you’re not looking and occasionally when you are, but the referee is never around to witness it. He enters pleas of innocence more frequently than Trump.
When combined, Corey Perry, Evander Kane, and Leon Draisaitl are similar to a root canal without the freezing.
