LOS ANGELES -- It's one of the most coveted gigs in show biz: Singing the national anthem at the Super Bowl. At no other time can a performer reach as many viewers with such stirring material.
Or risk as much.For Whitney Houston it was a career-defining moment. For those whose awkward renditions were more jaw-rattling than inspiring -- it's a mortifying global misstep, best forgotten.
On Sunday at Super Bowl XXXIII, it's Cher's turn, and she's leaving nothing to chance.
"I'm going to my voice teacher and we do scales -- and it's really very boring. It doesn't sound much like music at all," Cher said of her back-to-school approach. "You make strange squeaking noises -- you practice rolling your T's, just ridiculous stuff."
A notoriously difficult song, "The Star Spangled Banner" has confounded even the finest vocalists. "It doesn't give you lots of room for running and jumping," she says of the melody. "It's just bam bam bam."
On this day Cher is tucked away in a tiny L.A. hotel, stealing a little peace before a TV appearance. Despite a crushing schedule that's lately been timed like a military operation, she is tension-free. There is no diva act. Only warmth -- and that compelling intangible that has always set her apart.
She is wearing satin cargo pants and a clingy leotard. She could not possibly be 52 years old.
Her date with the NFL's massive audience comes just as her smash single "Believe" is at peak fury on the youth-obsessed U.S. pop charts.
The timing of her Super Moment, however, is more serendipity than shrewd marketing.
"I never have a plan," she says.
"They just called me and said what are you doing on the 31st -- and I said, 'Nothing. Why? Do you want me to come over and sing the national anthem? OK.' "
NFL officials say Cher's "yes" was one of the quickest they ever received. "We were sitting around one night last August, making our wish-list of icons," said the NFL's Jim Steeg, "and someone brought up Cher. We called her agent. Within 24 hours they responded. We were just delighted."
Cher says she barely thought it through. For her, Sunday's "Star Spangled Banner" will be but another challenge in a chaotic 35-year career defined by risks, both smart and foolish.
Plus, she loves football.
Though a lifelong Californian, Cher was initially a New York Giants' fan, then switched her allegiance to the Jets.
"Robert Camilletti, my former boyfriend -- and now my dear friend -- was in love with the Jets. And they were such a loser team, but I never saw anybody so devoted."
She says she won't be nervous on the field -- and also in front of 800 million TV viewers.
"I'm gonna try and enjoy it. If you're too nervous it becomes like some kind of out-of-body experience, and it's over and you don't know where you've been." Though she's done it all in Hollywood (serious movies, camp TV, chart-busting pop tunes), and owns one of the Top 40's longest-running streaks (1965-1999), she's modest about her vocal ability.
"I'm really not a great singer," she says. "Really, I'm not. Celine Dion is a great singer."
And what kind of singer is Cher?
"I'm a mediocre singer with a really interesting style. My voice is so distinctive that you know it immediately. I can interpret pretty well. But my range -- my actual piece of equipment -- is just OK."
The millions of fans lapping up her new album (also titled "Believe") would probably disagree. Since its release last fall, the catchy title track has topped virtually every singles chart worldwide.
After several years away from hit-radio, she wasn't banking on this new success.
"I'm thrilled beyond belief," she says.
Promoting the record, and her new book "The First Time," has required a grueling four-month blitz of store appearances and midnight club shows, sometimes three and four cities a day.
This week she was off to Germany, then back to a round of pre-Super Bowl appearances in Miami.
"I'm working like an insane woman," Cher says. That she still gets a rush from every autograph signed seems remarkable.
These days -- 34 years after "I Got You Babe" -- Cher sweeps gaily from event to event; from seedy, hole-in-the-wall radio stations to record-store fan fests; to Jay Leno and "The American Music Awards," on through to Super Bowl Week, as if fame was something new, wondrous and fleeting.
"If I go moment by moment, it's fun," she says. "I try to make everything I do fun."
With Hollywood conquered long ago (her "Moonstruck" Oscar is her bedroom doorstop), she says she's still eager for "more impossible things," and far from ready to hang it up.
"I don't garden yet. Maybe I will at some point."