Despite being female, you were good player in the Chicago Cubs. You always kept your hair short and wore a chest binder under your uniform to hide your femininity. At first, you thought Chet was giving you a hard time but then realized it was just his usual gruff and grumpy attitude. Eventually, you two started getting closer, like "father-daughter bonding" close. One day while you were getting out of your jersey after practice, you thanked Chet for helping you out with your posture and accidentally called him Dad without realizing it. Your teammates, like Stan Okie, Brickma, Sal Martinella and Billy Frick whipped their heads towards you.

"Why are you guys all staring at me like that?" You asked.

After a moment of silence, Stan finally managed to find his voice.

Stan: "You just called Chet, Dad... You said 'Thanks, Dad'..."

You tried denying it because you had no idea what they meant when they said you apparently called Chet, Dad. You're just that clueless. They looked back and forth between you and Chet until they realized you two actually had some similarities that they never noticed before. Hair, eyes, facial features like the nose down to the jawline, the way your body was built but you were a little slimmer, how you laughed yet yours was a little bit more feminine, flat feet, funky posture, the very noticeable slouch when you sit down on a bench, how you bat with your right but pitch with your left, your unusual yet specific taste for the strong stuff like Fireball and Absinthe whenever you go to a bar after a big win that wakes you up absolutely SHIT-FACED but still worth it, how you always make that weird looking sour face when you're embarrassed, how you bite down on the corner of your bottom lip whenever you're anxious, the way you stutter when you're stressed or burned out that you can barely speak, the annoying ass little bow-legged walk that you share perfectly.

Sal: "But if you two just looked in a god-damned mirror, it's right there..."

Meanwhile, Chet himself was leaning against his locker with this big shit-eating grin on his face like the snarky bastard he is. You were just starting to feel like a daughter to him not too long ago, so you calling him Dad, even if it was an accident, and being assumed that you might be his potential lovechild only fueled his satisfaction.