April 2, 2025, started like any other spring day in Frisco, Texas. The sun was up, the air was warm, and Kuykendall Stadium was buzzing with energy. High school kids from eight Frisco Independent School District campuses were there for the University Interscholastic League’s District 11-5A track championship. It was one of those events that pulls the community together. Parents in the stands, students on the field, everyone rooting for their teams. But by 10 a.m., that normal day turned into something none of us will ever forget. Austin Metcalf, a 17-year-old junior from Memorial High School, was stabbed to death in a fight. Karmelo Anthony, another 17-year-old from Centennial High School, is the one they say did it. He’s in custody now, charged with murder. Frisco’s still in shock, and it feels like we’re all holding our breath, trying to figure out how this happened.
The Moment Everything Changed
Picture the scene. The track meet was in full swing. Kids were stretching, tossing shot puts, lining up for races. Austin was there, part of the Memorial crew, doing what he loved. He wasn’t just any kid either. He was a football standout, a track athlete, a straight-A student. Then he crossed paths with Karmelo Anthony. We don’t have all the details yet, and the police are keeping things quiet while they investigate. But Austin’s dad, Jeff, said it started over something simple. Austin told Karmelo he was “in the wrong spot,” maybe about where they were in the stands or near the field. It could’ve been nothing, just a quick back-and-forth. Instead, it turned ugly fast. Karmelo pulled a knife and stabbed Austin in the heart.
The next few minutes were pure chaos. Kids screamed, people ran toward the noise, and Austin’s twin brother, Hunter, was right there. Hunter’s his identical twin, the two of them inseparable since day one. He tried to save Austin. “I whipped around as fast as I could,” Hunter told WFAA later, barely holding it together. “I looked at my brother, and I can’t talk about it. I just tried to help him.” Blood was everywhere, and Hunter held on, desperate. Other kids and adults jumped in, doing CPR, yelling for help. Paramedics got there quick, giving Austin blood, fighting to keep him alive. But it didn’t work. He was gone. The stadium, full of life just moments before, went still.
Police arrested Karmelo on the spot. He’s facing first-degree murder charges, a felony that could mean years, maybe a lifetime, in prison. As of April 3, he’s locked up with no bond set. The track meet stopped cold. They loaded over 100 kids onto buses back to their schools, everyone too stunned to say much. Frisco Police are asking for tips at 972-292-6010 or through Tip411, but right now, there’s more questions than answers.
Austin’s Light
Austin Metcalf wasn’t just a headline. He was a kid with a future, a family, a whole life ahead of him. At 17, he was already leaving his mark at Memorial High School. He played linebacker on the football team, good enough that college recruiters were watching. He threw shot put and discus in track, and he kept a 4.0 GPA, landing him in the National Honor Society. His dad called him the team’s MVP, but it wasn’t just about talent. Austin had this way about him. Warm, funny, always there for people.
His family’s shattered now. Jeff and Meghan, his parents, are facing the kind of pain no one should. Jeff talked to FOX 4 about seeing Austin in the hospital, kissing his cold forehead, whispering, “It’s not goodbye, it’s see you later.” They’d been hunting together just days before, a ritual with him and the twins since they were tiny. Meghan got Hunter’s call and sped to the hospital, but Austin was already gone. “He was the most amazing kid,” she said, her voice cracking. Hunter’s lost more than a brother; he’s lost his twin. “Austin was the heart of our family,” he said. A few days back, Austin posted on X: “Faith that God got me and my work will pay off.” Reading that now just breaks you.
Friends keep sharing stories. Haleigh, a sophomore, told The Dallas Morning News, “He was always laughing, so family-oriented.” Gavin, the quarterback who’d known him forever, said, “He was the light we all looked for.” That’s the Austin everyone remembers, the one we’re grieving for.
A Town Turned Upside Down
Frisco’s not built for this. We’re a place of good schools, strong families, and sports that bring us together. Now we’re a town that’s hurting. Memorial High School’s principal, Brook Fesco, broke the news to students during second period on April 3. Counselors are there, trying to help kids make sense of it. That night, Hope Fellowship Church, where Austin was a member, opened its doors for a vigil. Hundreds came, lighting candles, holding each other. Frisco ISD put out a statement: “We’re deeply saddened.” The UIL said the same, and they’ve moved the rest of the track meet to April 7 at Little Elm. But no one’s focused on that right now.
The police are getting flooded with calls. “We grieve with everyone affected,” they said, urging people to share anything they know. Everyone’s asking how this could happen. How did a knife get into a track meet? How did a small argument end like this? Jeff’s voice cuts through the confusion: “What kind of parents did this kid have? What was he taught?” It’s raw, and it’s what a lot of us are wondering.
Then there’s Jeff’s next words, the ones that stop you cold. “I forgive this person,” he told NBC 5. “God’s going to take care of it, take care of me, my family.” Forgiveness like that, in a moment like this, feels almost impossible.
What’s Next?
This tragedy’s forcing us to look hard at things. How do we protect our kids? Should there have been tighter security, more checks? Frisco ISD hasn’t said much yet, but you can bet those talks are coming. And beyond that, why are kids this angry? What’s pushing them to this point? Jeff summed it up: “We’ve got to be kind to each other. Show compassion, empathy, not rage. Teach your kids right from wrong and pray this doesn’t happen to yours.”
The Metcalfs are leaning on the community. They’ve started a GoFundMe for Austin’s funeral, because no family should have to figure that out alone. Hunter’s carrying a weight none of us can imagine. “Austin did everything for our family,” he said. “I always tried to keep up with him.” Losing your twin, watching him slip away in your arms, it’s beyond words.
Frisco’s different today. We’re mourning together, clinging to each other. Austin’s gone, and it’s left a gap nothing can fill. Karmelo’s got a tough road ahead in court, and his family’s hurting too. But for now, we’re focused on Austin, the kid with the big smile and bigger dreams. Jeff’s right, it’s not goodbye. It’s see you later. Maybe we can take something from this, learn to hold our kids closer, teach them better, so this never happens again.
The Moment Everything Changed
Picture the scene. The track meet was in full swing. Kids were stretching, tossing shot puts, lining up for races. Austin was there, part of the Memorial crew, doing what he loved. He wasn’t just any kid either. He was a football standout, a track athlete, a straight-A student. Then he crossed paths with Karmelo Anthony. We don’t have all the details yet, and the police are keeping things quiet while they investigate. But Austin’s dad, Jeff, said it started over something simple. Austin told Karmelo he was “in the wrong spot,” maybe about where they were in the stands or near the field. It could’ve been nothing, just a quick back-and-forth. Instead, it turned ugly fast. Karmelo pulled a knife and stabbed Austin in the heart.
The next few minutes were pure chaos. Kids screamed, people ran toward the noise, and Austin’s twin brother, Hunter, was right there. Hunter’s his identical twin, the two of them inseparable since day one. He tried to save Austin. “I whipped around as fast as I could,” Hunter told WFAA later, barely holding it together. “I looked at my brother, and I can’t talk about it. I just tried to help him.” Blood was everywhere, and Hunter held on, desperate. Other kids and adults jumped in, doing CPR, yelling for help. Paramedics got there quick, giving Austin blood, fighting to keep him alive. But it didn’t work. He was gone. The stadium, full of life just moments before, went still.
Police arrested Karmelo on the spot. He’s facing first-degree murder charges, a felony that could mean years, maybe a lifetime, in prison. As of April 3, he’s locked up with no bond set. The track meet stopped cold. They loaded over 100 kids onto buses back to their schools, everyone too stunned to say much. Frisco Police are asking for tips at 972-292-6010 or through Tip411, but right now, there’s more questions than answers.
Austin’s Light
Austin Metcalf wasn’t just a headline. He was a kid with a future, a family, a whole life ahead of him. At 17, he was already leaving his mark at Memorial High School. He played linebacker on the football team, good enough that college recruiters were watching. He threw shot put and discus in track, and he kept a 4.0 GPA, landing him in the National Honor Society. His dad called him the team’s MVP, but it wasn’t just about talent. Austin had this way about him. Warm, funny, always there for people.
His family’s shattered now. Jeff and Meghan, his parents, are facing the kind of pain no one should. Jeff talked to FOX 4 about seeing Austin in the hospital, kissing his cold forehead, whispering, “It’s not goodbye, it’s see you later.” They’d been hunting together just days before, a ritual with him and the twins since they were tiny. Meghan got Hunter’s call and sped to the hospital, but Austin was already gone. “He was the most amazing kid,” she said, her voice cracking. Hunter’s lost more than a brother; he’s lost his twin. “Austin was the heart of our family,” he said. A few days back, Austin posted on X: “Faith that God got me and my work will pay off.” Reading that now just breaks you.
Friends keep sharing stories. Haleigh, a sophomore, told The Dallas Morning News, “He was always laughing, so family-oriented.” Gavin, the quarterback who’d known him forever, said, “He was the light we all looked for.” That’s the Austin everyone remembers, the one we’re grieving for.
A Town Turned Upside Down
Frisco’s not built for this. We’re a place of good schools, strong families, and sports that bring us together. Now we’re a town that’s hurting. Memorial High School’s principal, Brook Fesco, broke the news to students during second period on April 3. Counselors are there, trying to help kids make sense of it. That night, Hope Fellowship Church, where Austin was a member, opened its doors for a vigil. Hundreds came, lighting candles, holding each other. Frisco ISD put out a statement: “We’re deeply saddened.” The UIL said the same, and they’ve moved the rest of the track meet to April 7 at Little Elm. But no one’s focused on that right now.
The police are getting flooded with calls. “We grieve with everyone affected,” they said, urging people to share anything they know. Everyone’s asking how this could happen. How did a knife get into a track meet? How did a small argument end like this? Jeff’s voice cuts through the confusion: “What kind of parents did this kid have? What was he taught?” It’s raw, and it’s what a lot of us are wondering.
Then there’s Jeff’s next words, the ones that stop you cold. “I forgive this person,” he told NBC 5. “God’s going to take care of it, take care of me, my family.” Forgiveness like that, in a moment like this, feels almost impossible.
What’s Next?
This tragedy’s forcing us to look hard at things. How do we protect our kids? Should there have been tighter security, more checks? Frisco ISD hasn’t said much yet, but you can bet those talks are coming. And beyond that, why are kids this angry? What’s pushing them to this point? Jeff summed it up: “We’ve got to be kind to each other. Show compassion, empathy, not rage. Teach your kids right from wrong and pray this doesn’t happen to yours.”
The Metcalfs are leaning on the community. They’ve started a GoFundMe for Austin’s funeral, because no family should have to figure that out alone. Hunter’s carrying a weight none of us can imagine. “Austin did everything for our family,” he said. “I always tried to keep up with him.” Losing your twin, watching him slip away in your arms, it’s beyond words.
Frisco’s different today. We’re mourning together, clinging to each other. Austin’s gone, and it’s left a gap nothing can fill. Karmelo’s got a tough road ahead in court, and his family’s hurting too. But for now, we’re focused on Austin, the kid with the big smile and bigger dreams. Jeff’s right, it’s not goodbye. It’s see you later. Maybe we can take something from this, learn to hold our kids closer, teach them better, so this never happens again.
