Don't even try it, pal.
You're no KGB double agent, and this isn't Maury Povich's first rodeo. The man's lie detector test has seen every flea-bitten con artist and flim-flam man this side of creation.
If you think it's going to miss the pop in your pulse when someone starts asking about your late-night trips to good ol' Dr. Bosch, you are gravely mistaken.
Indeed, Maury is all about exposing the hot, nasty truth for all to see, and the following are athletes (and coaches) who wouldn't have lasted a minute in the damning presence of the program's lie detector.
You can run from the truth, but you can't hide from a 75-year-old TV host and his robotic soul searcher. That's just a scientific fact.
The Lie: Saying he wasn't going to become the head coach at Alabama and then becoming the head coach of Alabama.
That's it. That's the lie.
While head coach of the Miami Dolphins in 2006, Nick Saban responded to rumors concerning his possible acceptance of a head coaching position with the University of Alabama football program by stating, "I'm not going to be the Alabama coach."
Two weeks later he accepted a job offer to be the Alabama coach.
The Lie: Saying he didn't stomp on someone when he clearly, definitively stomped on someone.
He stuck to his guns, but video replay and people with eyes quickly discerned that Ndamukong Suh was lying when he said he didn't stomp-crush the Packers' Evan Dietrich-Smith during the 2011 Thanksgiving Day game.
Suh claimed he was trying to "remove [himself] from the situation," but the Lions defensive tackle clearly and purposefully dug his cleats into Dietrich-Smith's arm while "removing" himself from an on-field scuffle.
The [Alleged] Lie: Telling players he wasn't leaving Louisville right before leaving Louisville.
At least one of Charlie Strong's former players believes Strong lied about his intentions of leaving Louisville for the head coaching job in Texas.
Cardinals cornerback Andrew Johnson took to Twitter in January to shred Strong, who had just made the decision to leave Louisville for the Longhorns football program.
According to Johnson, Strong had told the team he wasn't "going nowhere," which clearly wasn't the case.
The [Alleged] Lie: Saying he hasn't re-upped his steroid usage.
The law of the land in the United States states you are innocent until proven guilty.
With that said, I'm not holding my breath waiting for the MLB to overturn the 162-game suspension they've levied upon Alex Rodriguez. The man admitted to cheating the system once, and has thus forfeited all benefit of the doubt he might have once been owed.
The Lie: Too many to count.
Lance Armstrong turned lying into a lifestyle over the course of his professional cycling career.
Recapping it here would require more space than our servers can handle, but suffice to say, the seven-time Tour De France winner was eventually fleeced of his titles for PED usage.
He has since admitted to doping and has delivered a calculating apology on The Oprah Show—the show you go on after you fail a liar detector test.
The Lie: Claiming he was vacationing with his wife when he was out riding motorcycles with his 25-year-old mistress.
Bobby Petrino gets around. It's in his blood.
Wanderlust has taken Petrino from program to program over the course of his career, but it was thrust-lust that put him in the hospital and out of a job in 2012.
During his stint as head coach of the Arkansas Razorbacks, the then 51-year-old Petrino found himself in an extramarital affair with 25-year-old Arkansas alumnus, Jessica Dorrell. Dorrell and Petrino went on lunch dates, eloped, and the coach eventually recommended her for a staff position with the Arkansas athletic department.
The affair was exposed after Petrino and Dorrell were involved in a motorcycle accident, and state troopers noted the coach had a young woman on the back of his bike. When questioned about the incident by the school's athletic director, Petrino said he had been with his wife on vacation at the time. Yep, that old lie.
The Lie: Claiming the "hand of God" helped Argentina win the 1986 World Cup.
Many consider his powers to be divine, but history suggests that Diego Maradona is not, in fact, the creator of the universe.
That little fact didn't stop the Argentine striker from winking at the press after the 1986 World Cup Final, however. Maradona put in the first of his two goals against England with the help of an illegal handball maneuver—a maneuver that helped lift his side to victory.
After the game Maradona said the goal was scored "a little with the head of Maradona, a little with the hand of God."
To this day, bystanders are still amazed Maradona didn't follow this statement with a double guns hand gesture and the words "you know what I mean."
The Lie: Claiming he didn't return to the dugout after being ejected from a game.
He deserves credit for creativity, but Bobby Valentine wasn't fooling anyone when he decided to sneak back into the New York Mets dugout in disguise in 1999.
Valentine was tossed from the game for arguing a call at home plate, and instead of waiting it out in the clubhouse decided to slink back into the dugout wearing a fake mustache and glasses. The stunt earned the Mets manager a three game suspension and $50,000 fine. He never admitted to sneaking back in incognito.
The Lie: Telling the world she won the Boston Marathon.
Rosie, Rosie, Rosie...this is why we can't anything nice.
Rosie Ruiz was the "competitor" who hoodwinked race officials at the 1980 Boston Marathon into believing she—an unknown, mystery runner—had somehow managed to outrun a field of world class long-distance runners.
Ruiz's deception unraveled quickly, however, as she was only perspiring lightly and couldn't answer basic questions about her race.
It was eventually revealed Ruiz had started the race, ran off course and took a subway train to the finish line. The following police investigation concluded this entire scenario did occur in real life and was not a sketch from a Three Stooges spinoff.
The Lie: Allegedly fibbing about a lost Super Bowl ring.
Warren Sapp is broke.
The former Tampa Bay filed for bankruptcy in the state of Florida in 2012, and in the process of liquidating assets, might have lied to a bankruptcy court about the whereabouts of his Super Bowl ring.
Sapp won the ring in 2003 with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, and he told the court he had since lost track of the article. Months after declaring it lost, however, Sapp showed up to a team photo op with a Super Bowl XXXVII ring on his finger.
Sure, he could've borrowed one from a teammate—or he could've temporarily "misplaced" the ring until those snitches from the bank finished crawling over his home.
Tell me lies. Sweet, 140-character lies.