Arizona State’s practice ended around 3 p.m. Monday afternoon. Alonzo Verge finished up a one-on-one game with ASU guard Kyle Feit, answered some questions from the media and then headed into the Weatherup Center locker room.

He was excited for a night he had all mapped out.

He was going to head home and shower. Maybe eat. Then he’d turn on a Netflix movie -- and, yes, only a movie, the longevity of a TV series doesn’t intrigue him. He planned on making a late-night run to the gym after the movie. And, of course, back home for more Netflix.

It’s not necessarily his routine. It’s not even that boring of a Monday night -- especially during Spring Break. It is, however, a sign of Verge’s maturity, the first thing he’ll mention when asked how he’s grown as a person in college.

He’s fine being by himself, or rather, he learned how to find pleasure in those moments that don’t show up in any college-aged comedy movies, the ones where you’re alone in your dorm with no things to do or people to talk to.

“Being in school showed me how to be alone and be comfortable with myself,” Verge said. “(Before), I always had to be around friends and interact with people or I’d feel down and depressed because I’m in my room. And now, I can finally do that and be comfortable.”

“He was never into Netflix or any of that stuff,” Verge’s mom, Tricia Moncrief, added. “Now he can sit still enough to watch it. I’m glad.”

Verge’s history with the alternative -- what he used to do instead of just relaxing and watching Netflix -- was rarely positive in high school. He admitted to continuous behavior problems in school. His mom added that he hung out with the wrong crowd, that he put himself ill-advised situation after ill-advised situation on the streets of Chicago.

“You see the vision as a parent. I could see the future,” Moncrief said. “He only saw the moment. He only saw what was going on that day or the next.”

They both admit it now, he made mistakes aplenty. Kids often do. But the most frustrating part for Moncrief is it didn’t seem like Verge learned from his faults. A misstep was followed by the same goof later on. He cycled through mishaps with no change.

Moncrief did what a lot of his friend’s parents did not, Verge admitted. She stuck with him. She disciplined him accordingly. Instead of kicking him out of the house, she fed him encouragement about the kind of person he had the potential to become. He could be both one heck of a basketball player as well as an upstanding person, she told her son.

“And I just kind of questioned, am I doing it the right way? Am I getting through to him? What else is it going to take?” Moncrief said. “Hoping that it wouldn’t take the most extreme outcome. I knew how I raised him and I knew that at some point, he was going to get it. It took longer than I thought, but that’s OK -- I’ll take it.”

Verge attended three high schools -- Willowbrook in Chicago for his freshman and sophomore years, then Arlington Country Day School in Jacksonville his junior year and, lastly, Thornton High School in a southern suburb of Chicago. This wasn’t by accident. It was Moncrief’s way of guiding him away from bad influences and regrettable decisions.

In some ways, it worked. On the court, he was phenomenal, taking home the 2017 Chicago Sun-Times Player of the Year award -- basically the Illinois version of Mr. Basketball. It was poor grades, in part influenced by moving schools twice, that kept him off the radar of Division I schools.

Regardless, it was for the best. Verge left Chicago for “the middle of nowhere.” He was thrown in the fire, forced to grow up when his mom dropped him off in Moberly, Missouri with a junior college basketball scholarship and no car.

Added Verge: “I needed to get away from Chicago. I needed that space. Me being at Moberly, I just taught myself to be comfortable in my own skin, to be alone.”

Moberly Area Community College coach Pat Smith and his staff were relentless in their recruiting efforts of Verge. They went to his games and visited his home in Chicago. They set up an academic plan for him before he even arrived on campus. He felt valued.

“They rallied around him. They made sure that, no matter what his path was, he had a new fresh start when he was there,” Moncrief said. “Moberly and their community helped him so much become a young man.”

****

After two years in junior college, he landed at Arizona State. Touted as an other-worldly scorer after leading the NJCCA in scoring, Verge had expectations of a guard who could almost carry the Sun Devils’ offense.

Through three games, he registered just 25 points. He looked out of sorts. His 3-point shots weren’t falling (Literally. He missed his first 11 shots from deep at ASU). He had trouble finishing at the rim. Looking back on it, the early struggles make more sense. As ASU assistant coach Rashon Burno pointed out, the transition from JuCo to DI basketball is challenging.

Oh yeah, and Verge was dealing with a sprained wrist. He had tweaked it in practice after a hard fall but didn’t tell anyone. Then he kept falling on it and falling on it. He was starting to push the ball, unable to flick his wrist from the pain.

The Sun Devils kept him out of their three-game east coast tilt against St. John’s, Virginia and Princeton. It was a big week for ASU, Verge wanted to play. It was also supposed to be the first time Moncrief saw her son play DI basketball. Instead, he was in street clothes on the bench.

“I had never been that low before,” Verge said. “I had always had success playing basketball.”

Every morning, Moncrief would send Verge a picture of an uplifting quote. She would think back to their recent conversations and Google different sayings that fit what he was going through. And, because of the time difference, it always reached him before he was out of bed.

“I would wake up to that and that’s why I love her -- because now she is so happy that I’m doing good,” Verge said. “She deserves to be happy because I’ve been through so much with her.”

“I would send it to him every morning and just tell him he was going to get through it,” she added. “Just telling him how good of a player he was and his mindset and how strong he was and that he was going to be OK.”

He was more than OK. Verge returned from his injury in early December. There were some hiccups as he eased back into the game but, eventually, the Verge everyone saw in Moberly shined in Tempe. In the final five games of non-conference play, he averaged 24 points, highlighted by a 43-point outburst against Saint Mary’s.

He grew to learn how to play alongside ASU guard Remy Martin and without the ball always in his hands. He accepted his role coming off the bench, content being the sixth man if it helped the team win. Averaging nearly 17 points off the bench, he led every reserve in the country in scoring. And, on Monday, he was named Pac-12 Sixth Man of the Year.

To celebrate, all he wanted to do was watch Netflix.

“I was extremely proud because I know the sacrifices he made and I know the struggles,” Moncrief said. “To now, to be awarded for his hard work and dedication and sacrifice, I was so proud of him.”

Thinking back on Verge’s journey, Moncrief can’t help but recall an instance from two years ago. The change was so evident to his family, he was home for the first time after being at Moberly and his actions were foreign. He wanted to be around different people. He removed himself from negative surroundings. He had matured.

There were no more doubts, Moncrief did things right with her son.

“My heart is at ease. I can sleep at night knowing I don’t have to worry about him,” she said. “I had to rely on what I was teaching him to take effect when I wasn’t around. It was really hard to go through some of the bad decisions he made and working through some of those issues.

“But, I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything because it made him who he is right now -- the most humble person that you would meet … It just lets me know he heard me. Even though he may not have listened to those early years, he heard everything I was saying.”