Written by Jonathan Ellis.
On April 2, 2025, a high school track meet in Frisco, Texas, turned deadly when 17-year-old Karmelo Anthony allegedly stabbed 16-year-old Austin Metcalf, a standout student-athlete from Memorial High School. The altercation, which unfolded at Kuykendall Stadium during the District 11-5A championship, began over a seemingly minor seating dispute. According to police reports, Metcalf and his twin brother, Hunter, asked Anthony—a student from Frisco Centennial High School—to vacate a tent reserved for their team. What followed was a rapid escalation that left Metcalf fatally wounded, dying in Hunter’s arms despite desperate attempts to save him.
The Frisco Police Department swiftly arrested Anthony, charging him with first-degree murder. Court records indicate his bond is set at $1 million, and he remains in custody at Collin County Jail. When confronted by a school resource officer at the scene, Anthony reportedly declared, “I’m not alleged, I did it,” while asserting that he acted in self-defense. A witness account aligns with this timeline: Anthony had warned Metcalf, “Touch me and see what happens,” before reaching into his backpack. After Metcalf physically intervened, Anthony pulled a knife and stabbed him once in the chest, then fled—leaving the weapon behind in the bleachers.
For those who’ve navigated tense workplace spats or schoolyard standoffs, the scenario might feel relatable—until it veers into tragedy. Austin Metcalf wasn’t just any teen; he carried a 4.0 GPA, led his football team as MVP, and had college recruiters eyeing his talent. His death has shattered a family and stunned a community, raising hard questions about how a petty argument spiraled so far out of control.
A Controversial Fundraiser Gains Traction
In the days following the stabbing, Anthony’s family launched a crowdfunding campaign on GiveSendGo titled “Help Karmelo Official Fund,” aiming to raise $200,000 for his legal defense and support. By April 7, 2025, the effort had amassed over $160,000 from hundreds of donors—a figure that’s sparked both support and backlash. The family’s statement on the fundraiser page reads, “This is the Official Support Fund for Karmelo and his family during this challenging and difficult time. The narrative being spread is false, unjust, and harmful. As a family of faith, we are deeply grateful for all of your support during this trying period.”
The donations vary widely—some as modest as $5, others reaching $3,000—reflecting a polarized public response. Comments on the platform reveal the divide. One donor wrote, “Self-defense in a stand-your-ground state; this young man did nothing wrong,” invoking Texas law and citing high-profile cases like Kyle Rittenhouse’s. Another added, “Stay strong, young brother; this is a fight against racism and evil,” framing Anthony, who is Black, as a victim of systemic bias against Metcalf, who was White. These sentiments contrast sharply with the grief-fueled anger from Metcalf’s supporters, who see the fundraiser as a slap in the face to a slain teen’s memory.
The numbers alone are staggering. Raising $160,000 in under a week isn’t pocket change—it’s a sum that could cover a small business’s payroll for months. Yet here it’s earmarked for a murder suspect’s defense, highlighting how quickly online platforms can mobilize cash and opinion. The Daily Mail first flagged this development, noting the fundraiser’s traction as Anthony sits behind bars, his fate pending a legal battle that’s already drawing national scrutiny.
Dueling Narratives Fuel Public Tension
The incident’s details remain contested, with each side offering a starkly different take. Hunter Metcalf, who witnessed his brother’s final moments, recounted the lead-up to WFAA on April 3. “We asked him to move,” he said of Anthony. “He started getting aggressive and talking reckless, and my brother stepped in and said, ‘You need to move.’ He’s like, ‘Make me move,’ and grabbed his backpack.” Hunter trailed off, unable to fully articulate the stabbing itself, but concluded, “It was senseless. I don’t know why a person would do that over that little argument.” His account paints Anthony as the instigator, escalating a routine request into violence.
Anthony’s camp tells a different story. His attorney, Deric Walpole, hired on April 4, told KXAS-TV, “I know my client said it was self-defense. I don’t have any reason to disbelieve that, but I need to develop facts and talk to people before I make any statements about what I think happened.” Anthony himself bolstered this claim at the scene, asking police if his actions could qualify as self-defense under Texas’s stand-your-ground laws, which permit deadly force if one reasonably perceives a threat. A relative, Kevin Hayes, doubled down in a widely shared Facebook post, alleging Metcalf and others had bullied Anthony, even breaking his phone—an unverified claim that’s fanned online flames.
The clash of perspectives isn’t just academic—it’s visceral. Picture two colleagues vying for the same office chair: one nudges the other to leave, words get heated, and suddenly it’s not about the seat anymore. Here, though, the stakes were life and death. Racial undertones complicate matters further. Social media posts—some probed by the FBI for misinformation—have cast Metcalf as a “white supremacist” aggressor and Anthony as a persecuted Black teen, though police and witnesses offer no evidence of racial motive. The truth, as ever, lies buried in the fog of emotion and bias.
Our Take
The Frisco track meet stabbing and its aftermath expose a raw nerve in American discourse—where justice, race, and crowdfunding collide with unsettling speed. Karmelo Anthony’s $160,000 fundraiser reflects a public eager to pick sides before the courts do, a rush that risks drowning out Austin Metcalf’s loss in a sea of agendas. Self-defense may yet prove a valid claim; Texas law allows it, and Anthony’s team will lean hard on that angle. But the optics of rallying cash for a confessed killer while a family buries their son? That’s a tough sell, no matter the context.
For me, this case isn’t about winners or losers yet—it’s about process. The legal system exists for a reason: to sift facts from noise. Anthony’s supporters see a kid cornered; Metcalf’s see a murderer emboldened. Both can’t be right, but both deserve a hearing beyond GiveSendGo’s echo chamber. The fundraiser’s haul—nearing $200,000—shows how fast sympathy can monetize, yet it also underscores a deeper unease. If every defendant crowdsources their defense, what’s left of impartiality? This isn’t justice; it’s a popularity contest with a body count. Time, and evidence, will tell the real story—until then, the clamor’s just that: clamor.
