This was my first driving lesson. The old Ford belonged to my teenage buddy who sat nervously beside me grumbling, "The clutch, Doyle, don't forget the clutch."

We were at a stop sign near the bottom of a hill. A horn blared behind me and I hurriedly struggled to obey my friend's instructions. Finally, I worked the stick into low gear, letting the clutch out unevenly as the car lurched forward and began to climb the hill. About half way up, I tried shifting to second gear, but the transmission groaned in protest.

My friend said, "Don't worry about second, Doyle.

Sometimes it doesn't go in too easy. First and third is all you need anyway. First and third."

It's an incident that vividly survives in my memory.

That's probably because it perfectly illustrates the one thing that separates an average professional play poker as player from a superstar: Superstars shift gears. More than that, they shift suddenly from first to third and back again, seldom using anything in between.

Shifting gears means playing super-aggressively, then changing to a slower, more selective game while your opponents continue to play according to the pace you've set. They're not aware that you've shifted-only you know for sure. Well, I just can't emphasize how important this concept is. Many skilled players realize the psychological advantage of varying the speed of their game, but they tend to play in long, fluid waves. They get slightly more aggressive hand by hand until, eventually, they reach a peak. Then they gradually ease up and play more conservatively until they reach a valley and slowly begin to open up again.

This isn't the right way to change speeds.

If this is how you've been playing poker, my advice is:

Next time, shift suddenly. You'll instantly sense a new and dramatic power over the other players and your profit will be commensurate with their confusion.

A few years ago, I became pretty friendly with a lawyer named Bill. He was not a bad player, but he was too conservative: he never varied his game. You know the type: intelligent, but not much imagination when it came to poker.

We started a six-handed no-limit hold 'em game at the Dunes. Bill remained about even for the first hour, playing a solid but very predictable game. The rest of us sort of played around him. For the most part, we avoided confrontations when he held a strong hand.

Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he bet $8000 with a pair of 10s, bluffing out an opponent who had at least aces. He even won a small side pot from an all-in player holding two8s.

A few hands later, he brought it in for S500, I made it $600, and he jumped all over this with a $7000 raise. To this day, I still wonder if he was bluffing. I sat out the next hand and watched Bill begin with A K in the pocket, flop a pair of kings and push the hand very aggressively, netting $8000. There was nothing wrong with his play, mind you, but none of us expected this from him.

Certainly we didn't expect what happened within the next fifteen minutes. He was in almost every hand, firing his chips at us with a vengeance. Raise, re-raise, jack it up, there just wasn't any end to it. He won a few, lost a few and was still roughly even. Suddenly, he became a poker tyrant with a world-class flair.