Pogacar: You sent for me?
de Vlaeminck: Yes, I did. You're good, Slovene, but you're not that good. You could be magnificent.
Pogacar: I'm required to attack, so I attack. That is enough.
de Vlaeminck: That's enough for the passes, but not for Milano-San Remo. Finally after five months of scratching a living in altitude camps, we're finally going back to where we belong. The Poggio. Oh, you should see the Poggio, Slovene. Fifty-thousand Berts. Watching every movement of your bike. Willing you to make that attaque thermonucleaire. The silence before you strike. And the noise afterwards. It rises. It rises up like - like thu- - like a storm. As if you were the Cannibal himself.
Pogacar: You were a rider?
de Vlaeminck: Yes, I was.
Pogacar: And you won Milano-San Remo?
de Vlaeminck: A long time ago, Eddy Merckx presented me with a rudis. It's just a... a wooden bike. A symbol of your victory. He touched me on the shoulder and I had won.
Pogacar: [laughing] You knew Eddy Merckx?
de Vlaeminck: [Angry] I did not say I knew him! I said he touched me on the shoulder once!
Pogacar: You asked me what I want. I too want to stand in front of Merckx. As you did.
de Vlaeminck: Then listen to me. Learn from me. I wasn't the best because I attacked like a retard. I was the best because the crowd loved me. Win the crowd and you'll win San Remo.
Pogacar: I will win Milano-San Remo. I will give them something they've never seen before.
de Vlaeminck: [laughs] So, Slovene. We shall go to Milan together and have bloody adventures. And a great whore will suckle us until we are fat and happy and can suckle no more. And then, when enough men have died, perhaps you will have your victory.