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efore every game, before every faceoff, Jakob Phaup looks to the crowd.

Whether it’s in the 49,250-seat Carrier Dome, or at smaller ACC venues, Phaup needs to find his mother, Beth. He needs to find her.

“Freshman year, I tried to find her during [the ACC tournament], and she was on the opposite side of the field,” Phaup remembers. “I had anxiety the whole game, so now she knows she has to get there early, and she waves to me so I can see her.”

Beth Phaup has the pre-game ritual down to a science. She knows to get to the stadium at least an hour early, find a spot near the 50-yard line and try to find her son before she starts to pace up and down her section.

Outside of that game his freshman year, Jakob Phaup has located his mother and his biggest ally. She is his world. The tradition started as Jakob wrestled as a child, and it continues as he plays in his junior season with the Syracuse Orange.

Phaup stands on X, sometimes on the sideline, and looks up to the crowd. Once he finds his mother, the woman who single-handedly raised him and has helped him through struggles with ADHD, he gives her a “fist pump,” and he’s ready to play.

“Anything I can do to make sure he’s in the right state of mind, and if that means him finding me or a fist pump or a head nod, that’s what I’m there for,” Beth Phaup said.

It’s the least he could do. He wouldn’t be where he is today without her.

“Just stepping out there on the field every Saturday, I do it for her,” Phaup said. “She doesn’t ask for much, at all. I definitely show her I love her so much. Me playing every weekend, even though it makes her a nervous wreck every time I step on the field, I think that’s enough for her.”

The bond between Phaup and his mother started as soon as he was born in Souderton, Pa., in 1999. That’s because his father, David, left both of them 10 months after he came into the world.

He was there for Jakob’s birth and saw his baptism, but he headed back to their former hometown of Virginia Beach at the turn of the century. He visited his son once about a year later, but he soon moved on with his new life. Phaup has had little contact with his father since.

Although it didn’t always occupy his mind, Phaup dropped hints that he was struggling with his father’s absence throughout his childhood. He came into school and told his friends about going dirt biking with his father, among other fictional stories.

“We’d talk about our weekends, and I’d say, ‘My dad took me here and there,’” he said. “My Dad lived in Virginia, and I had never really met him. It was a coping mechanism for me.”

His behavior reached a tipping point when he was 9 years old. That’s when his mother found a page in his math book that labeled three specific details.

Things that will always happen: He’ll always play sports.

Things that might happen: Go to the Olympics or play in the NFL.

Things that will never happen: I’ll never see my dad.

At that moment, Beth Phaup knew she needed to take action. She took her young son to therapy late in elementary school. Together, she and a therapist tried to stress to him that he was not at fault for his father’s absence.

The Phaups continued with therapy and started focusing on what they had, not what was missing.

“We said, ‘This is our life. It is what it is,’” Beth Phaup said. “There are plenty of other boys out there that do not have a father in their lives, and you’re very lucky to have your grandfather and uncle and all these coaches that really care about you, so we’re going to choose to look on the positive.”

Beth Phaup knew she’d have to step up for her son, who was an extremely active child as soon as he could move. As he got into school, it became apparent that he’d be trouble in the classroom. He spoke over teachers, and he couldn’t stay still at his desk.

“I had a red-light, green-light system,” he said. “Some days I’d walk into first grade, the day hadn’t even started yet and I was on a yellow light.”

His mother and teachers at his school tried plenty of methods to get him to stay still and pay attention in school. They tried tutors for different subjects. Teachers made him the “messenger” so he could get up and walk during class. His grades reflected an issue that needed to be addressed.

His mother, a special education teacher, took him to a doctor to get a diagnosis on what was plaguing him. Her suspicions were confirmed when it came back that he had a severe case of Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. He also suffered from dyslexia and a processing disorder.

In many ways, the diagnosis provided clarity. He was prescribed Adderall to help him focus in the classroom and on the field. Neither Jake nor Beth Phaup were going to let the information stop him from doing what he wanted with his life.

“He alluded to the fact that, not to say he would be lucky to finish high school, but anything beyond that was going to be a real struggle,” Beth Phaup said. “I took a few days to process that and cry about it, and then I got mad. That door was not going to be closed for my son. It was going to be difficult, but it was not going to be impossible. If he wanted to go to college, we were going to do everything we could to make that possible.”

“Most people would be like, ‘It’s OK. You have a disability in a way. Everything will be fine. It’s OK to not get good grades,’” Jake Phaup said. “My mom was like, ‘Whatever. This is who you are. We’re not going to use this as a crutch.’”

Jakob had no father around during wrestling meets. He struggled to read tests and exams and pay attention in class. His diagnosis was not a good one. But neither he nor his mother were going to let it stop them.

As he entered high school at Souderton Area (Pa.), he began to feel more comfortable with his life. He also started to succeed in lacrosse, leading a Souderton team that wasn’t necessarily a Pennsylvania powerhouse.

His play caught the eye of coaches at Syracuse, a Division I power, and he headed to Upstate, N.Y., for a visit. He committed during his sophomore year in 2015 after meeting with coach John Desko.

“I had no business really committing to Syracuse,” Phaup said. “I was getting beaten by kids that weren’t even committed yet. I just put my head down and said, ‘I’m just going to work until this thing figures itself out.’”

Phaup played out his high school season under coach Mark Princehorn, who became a mentor to him during the recruiting process. He headed to Syracuse as an unknown commodity out of a school not regarded for lacrosse.

It was another test for him, but nothing compared to what he had already experienced.

“Back then, and it was just a few years ago, a single mother and son going Division I was unheard of,” he said.

The college years were also going to be a challenge for his mother, but she decided she was going to travel to every game.

“I was leaving my only child, and we hadn’t spent a long time apart,” she said. “Whenever we traveled, he traveled with me. The idea that this time, during this trip, it would be only me in the car on the ride home was tough for me.”

It took a couple of years for him to find his confidence at Syracuse, but he’s shown progress each year. Through five games, he has won 53 of 78 faceoffs (67.9 percent) for an Orange team that has handled opponents with ease. The Orange are No. 1 in the Nike/US Lacrosse Division I Men’s Top 20.

Phaup has found his routine — taking Adderall Monday through Thursday and “letting loose” during Friday pre-game practices. He can be laser-focused on the faceoff, but he’s also the “class clown,” according to assistant coach Tommy Castanza.

“He comes to practice, and he’s ready to go,” Castanza said. “If he could take faceoffs for two straight hours, he would do that. Sometimes I’m like, ‘Hey man, let’s take a break.’ He’s go, go, go.

Castanza said he often finds Phaup doing 100-200 extra reps after practice at Manley Field House. When he’s not in class or talking to his mother, he’s headed to the practice field.

He knows he’s been through a lot, and he’s grateful for the opportunity he has in front of him.

Phaup does not speak to his father today, and he said he doesn’t have any interest in doing so at the moment. He’s focused on living his life to the best of his ability.

“It got to a point where I said to myself, ‘Why am I sad that I don’t have a father?’” he said. “I have the best mom in the world that has taken me to all these lacrosse practices, taken me on vacations, paid for all my lacrosse heads and dealt with all the stupid stuff that I do. Let’s take some pride in that.”

He’s also found ways to harness the ADHD that plagued his childhood. At 21 years old, Phaup has exceeded the limits that were once placed on him, and he’s not done working. He hopes to be an All-American and pro lacrosse player in the coming years.

Above all, he hopes to make his mother proud.

“It’s very surreal that you see somebody that’s out there living his dream,” Beth Phaup said. “He’s doing something that he absolutely, positively loves with a group of people that he absolutely loves. It just makes my heart warm.”