The University of Texas at Austin Athletics
Bill Little commentary: To Tina Bonci, with thanks
03.11.2014 | Texas Athletics, Bill Little Commentary
University of Texas trainer Tina Bonci passes away at 59.
Photo gallery: In memoriam -- Tina Bonci (1954-2014)
MEMORIAL GIFTS/CONDOLENCES: The family will advise regarding a future memorial service in Greenville, Pa. A recognition event also will be scheduled in Austin late spring. Memorial gifts in Tina's honor may be sent to: The Longhorn Foundation, The University of Texas/Intercollegiate Athletics, PO Box 7399, Austin, TX 78713-7399, Attn. Rob Heil and note TINA BONCI SPORTS MEDICINE ENDOWMENT FUND on checks. Personal notes of condolence may be sent to: Fred Bonci, 462 S. Dallas Ave., Pittsburgh, PA 15208
Bill Little, Texas Media Relations
When you think of Tina Bonci, you think of words that begin with the letter "T".
"T" is for Tina.
"T" is for tenacity.
"T" is for Texas.
"T" is for thanks.
What can you say about someone, who in her 28 years working in the field of athletic training at Texas, touched more people -- with her hands and her heart -- than could fit into any arena, facility or field where Tina weaved her magic.
There is another letter that would fit. Tina captured the essence of the letter "G." She was gentle, gracious, giving. She was indeed a giant, and she was very, very good.
As a pioneer in the field of sports medicine, Tina understood more about the human body than a hospital full of specialists. From the mid-1980s, when she served as an athletic trainer for the USA Olympics women's basketball team, until last weekend when she finally lost a brave battle with cancer, Tina immersed herself in learning.
On the third floor of Bellmont Hall, there was a little cubby hole of a corridor which served as the training room for UT women athletes for years until the men and women's programs combined their training facilities in the Moncrief-Neuhaus Athletics Center. There, Tina was the master of medicine. Staff or student, hurt a limb and need ice? Go see Tina, just down the hall. The machine was always working. Rehab? Got it. Ankle taping? Sure. Counseling? Sit down and visit.
Tina bridged the gap between genders and age groups. Where the legendary Frank Medina became synonymous with athletic training at Texas during his 33 years between 1945-78, Tina served the women's program for 28 years and was still a full-time employee at the time of her death. The irony, of course, is that Tina's time with us was shortened by the failure of the body -- the one thing about all of us she had dedicated her life to preserving. First it was Type I diabetes, and then a complicated form of cancer.
The tenacity entered then, and she whipped both -- living with the diabetes, and willing the cancer into submission.
There is really no count of the number of events she attended, or the number of student-athletes to whom she attended. But they know who they are. Because Tina was always there, caring and cheering, event after event, malady after malady.
She became famous, far beyond the Forty Acres. Though she never reached 60 years of age, she became a legend in her profession. From the time she left the University of Pennsylvania's sports medicine arena to come to Texas in fall 1985, Tina was a fixture at Texas, and an ambassador for her trade.
When Texas made its undefeated run to the NCAA Women's Basketball Championship in 1986, Jody Conradt was quick to note that Tina's arrival had coincided with the team's success. She used all of her medical knowledge to help athletes stay on the court, just as she prepared them for a healthy life beyond the game.
When she realized one of the Longhorns basketball players struggled with an allergy to milk products, she made sure pizza wasn't on her diet. She came into a world where women were just beginning to grow bigger, faster and stronger, and she nurtured and studied to understand, and to help them understand, this brave new world into which they were moving.
You can pitch in all of the available adjectives to describe Tina, and you would be right. She did have a quiet, gentle touch -- patiently kneading the hand of a stroke victim, searching for electrodes that would fire and bring a finger to life. She could be relentless, and she could be firm. But beneath all of that, she was kind. You loved Tina Bonci, because she loved you. It came from inside that tiny body, and it radiated through flashing eyes.
She was on the cutting edge of the modern world of sports medicine. She respected the past, and those in her field who had come before, but she understood that there were new and better ways to treat, and she wasn't afraid to explore. In that way, she was not only a pioneer, but a pathfinder.
As the decade of the 2010s arrived, Tina's life took a turn that all of her training and knowledge couldn't conquer. The cancer had returned, and doctors told her there was nothing more that they could do. It was then that she took a step back, and resolutely faced a future she knew all too well would not be what she, or any of us, would have wanted.
She had earned her place where just a few women were beginning to emerge in her youth. She had defied odds in her profession, and even had withstood challenges of health for her and for her hundreds of patients. Gallantly, she now faced the one thing she couldn't whip.
When Texas played basketball in West Virginia, Chris Plonsky, Jody Conradt, and long-time friend Becky Marshall visited Tina at her brother's home in Pittsburgh. There they laughed and enjoyed a great Italian meal. Then they said goodbye. Friday, just a few hours before the Texas women's team defeated Oklahoma in the quarterfinals of the Big 12 Conference tournament, Tina lost her final battle.