Why the Mets are now slapping their own butts to celebrate

The scene, unfolding on several occasions during recent Mets games, was a lot to take in.

Mark Canha recorded a hit, settled in at whatever base he reached and lifted his right leg. Then he slapped his right butt cheek.

In the dugout, like a line of synchronized dancers, a giddy gaggle of his fellow Mets obliged in kind: right leg lifted, tush smacked.

Uh, what?

“I have great teammates,” Canha said.

Canha’s new post-hit celebration is a window into the state of the Mets, who are eager to solve their offensive woes and equally eager to have fun amid a stretch that hasn't included much of it.

The origin stems from a teamwide endeavor into the latter. Like any aspiring playoff club, the Mets need an on-base bit, some sort of brief gesture from the diamond to the dugout after they reach, a little something to keep the energy flowing. The 2018 Mets had a salt-and-pepper shaker hand motion (until that season fell apart). The 2021 Mets had the infamous thumbs down (until they revealed the meaning behind it).

These Mets are looking for their own thing. At the moment, the collective effort is individualized: Each player is supposed to come up with his own, which teammates will mirror after that guy reaches base. Then they’ll see how it evolves.

For Canha, it has become the hand-to-derriere. Francisco Lindor folds and flaps his arm. Brett Baty points two fingers up, then down. Michael Perez, perhaps the smallest hitter on the team, has taken to pointing at his bicep.

Daniel Vogelbach said he is still mulling his options but he digs it.

“This game is hard, man,” he said. “Especially when you go through a little stretch like we went through. We’re just trying to bring fun. The game is hard, so celebrate in good times. Hits are hard to come by. RBIs are hard to come by. When you do stuff like that, it kind of relaxes, No. 1.

“No. 2, it makes you root for other people. It makes you realize that the ultimate goal is winning. Maybe you didn’t get it done, but when somebody else gets it done, you look forward to ‘What are they going to do? What’s their celebration?’ so you can give it back to them type of thing.”

Lindor said: “We decided to come up with your own thing and if someone picks it up, we might all do the same . . . It’s going to be fun because it’s starting to get everybody involved and we can’t wait to see what other guys do.”

Last week, Canha didn’t have a go-to, but that wasn’t a primary concern. His actual problem was a .219 average — and .655 OPS — through Friday.

That night, he was hanging out at the team hotel near Washington, D.C., with some of the others, commemorating David Robertson’s 1,000th career strikeout in the Mets’ win over the Nationals.

He got into conversation with several of the team’s most veteran pitchers in Justin Verlander, Adam Ottavino, Tommy Hunter and Robertson, plus Vogelbach, the DH.

“The pitchers were trying to help me figure some stuff out,” Canha explained. “They were trying to help me with mechanics and teaching me some lower-half pitching mechanics that might carry over to hitting. And they were talking about how important it is for them to feel their glutes being activated as they pick their leg up to start their delivery.

“They were showing me tricks: Turn your leg in this way, get your butt underneath you and feel this. Once you feel this back part of your glute, tighten up — that’s glute-activating. That’s what you’ll need to have to give you stability throughout the swing. And so I’ve been working on it."

In the next game, he put that advice into practice and wound up with three hits (two doubles). The next part came organically.

“And I was like: That’s my celebration,” Canha said. “Activate the glutes.”

Vogelbach said: “He works so hard on his swing. It was awesome to see that.”

If Canha keeps getting hits, the Mets will keep, um, activating their glutes.

“Hopefully, little things like this,” Vogelbach said, “will help us keep going.”

By Tim Healey

timothy.healey@newsday.com@timbhealey

Tim Healey is the Mets beat writer for Newsday. Born on Long Island and raised in Connecticut, Tim has previously worked for the South Florida Sun Sentinel, the Boston Globe and MLB.com. He is also the author of “Hometown Hardball,” a book about minor league baseball in the northeast.