A Collin County judge released still images, video footage, and a photograph of the knife used in the fatal stabbing of 17-year-old Austin Metcalf, giving the public its first unfiltered look at the evidence that sent Karmelo Anthony to prison for 35 years. The release came after a trial in which no cameras were permitted inside the courtroom, and after months of tightly restricted media access that left the public relying on secondhand accounts of what happened inside Kuykendall Stadium in Frisco, Texas, on the morning of April 2, 2025.

The case drew intense attention from the start: a student-athlete stabbed once in the chest during a district track meet, in broad daylight, at a school event. Anthony, also 17 at the time, admitted to the stabbing but claimed self-defense. A Collin County jury rejected that claim and convicted him of murder on June 9, 2026. The judge sentenced him to 35 years, well within the five-to-99-year range allowed under Texas law for a first-degree felony.

Now, with the trial concluded, the evidence is out. And what it shows is a case where the system did its job, methodically, under pressure, and without bending to the noise.

What the police report revealed

The Frisco Police Department released its report just two days after the stabbing, on April 4, 2025. The document laid out a sequence that left little room for ambiguity about who initiated the confrontation.

A witness told police they were sitting with Metcalf under their school's bleachers when someone they didn't know, later identified as Anthony, approached them. Metcalf told Anthony to leave the tent. Anthony grabbed his bag, opened it, reached inside, and said, "Touch me and see what happens."

The police report noted that no one present believed Anthony had a weapon. One witness said Metcalf touched Anthony; another said Metcalf grabbed him. But what happened next was not in dispute: Anthony pulled out a knife and stabbed Metcalf once in the chest, then ran.

Metcalf grabbed his chest and told others to get help. When officers arrived, he was not conscious or breathing. Multiple Frisco ISD athletic trainers were already performing CPR. He was transported to a hospital, where he died.

Body-camera audio captured during Anthony's arrest added another layer. Breitbart reported that a voice on the recording stated, "I'm not alleged. I did it." A 911 caller was also recorded saying, "My friend's bleeding everywhere."

A self-defense claim the jury did not buy

Anthony's attorney, Mike Howard, framed the defense early. After the police report surfaced, Howard released a video statement expressing confidence in the justice system and previewing the argument his client would carry to trial.

"Because it's only in a trial that the full story can be heard, and that impartial justice can be done. We expect that when the full story is heard, the prosecution will not be able to rule out the reasonable doubt that Karmelo Anthony may have acted in self-defense."

That argument had more than a year to develop. Judge John Roach, the Collin County district judge who presided over the case, scheduled the trial to begin June 1, 2026, more than 14 months after the stabbing. Anthony spent the intervening time on house arrest at his parents' home after his bond was reduced from $1 million to $250,000 on April 14, 2025.

The case is one of several high-profile youth criminal proceedings that have tested the boundaries of public accountability. In a separate federal case, a teenager was charged as an adult in the killing of his stepsister aboard a cruise ship, another instance where the severity of the crime forced the system to treat a young defendant as something other than a child.

When Anthony's trial finally opened, approximately 600 potential jurors were summoned for the first day of jury selection. Court officials said they hoped to whittle that number to about 250 by the next morning. Demonstrators gathered outside the Collin County Courthouse as proceedings got underway.

Over the course of the trial, jurors heard from dozens of witnesses, students, investigators, medical experts, and defense character witnesses. During closing arguments, Judge Roach allowed the jury to consider a lesser manslaughter charge. The jury chose murder.

Why the public saw so little, until now

Judge Roach's handling of media access became a flashpoint well before the verdict. On April 18, 2026, he issued a written order restricting coverage of the trial. No livestreaming. No audio or video recording. Cellphones were later prohibited entirely. Media members could take notes on laptops only with court approval.

Roach's order stated that the case "has generated substantial public and media attention and... unrestricted access or activity may compromise courtroom security, juror privacy, and the defendant's right to a fair trial." Attendees were barred from reacting, gesturing, or wearing distracting clothing. Protests were restricted to designated areas outside the courthouse. The Collin County Sheriff's Office enforced the rules.

Those restrictions meant the public learned about the trial almost entirely through written reporter accounts. Even the surveillance footage from the track meet itself was tightly controlled. When Frisco ISD released the video to select media under Texas open records law on June 11, 2025, CBS News Texas investigative producer Kelsy Mittauer was allowed to view it in person but could take only written notes.

Mittauer described the footage as captured from a camera near the stadium's press box, "far enough away that individuals were not easily identifiable." At about 9:55 a.m., she wrote, "a sudden movement is seen under a tent in the bleachers, followed by interaction between two figures. Several people are seen walking or running away, while others approach the area."

The judge's decision to release evidence after the trial concluded was the first time the broader public could see the material for itself. Fox News covered the release on June 20, 2026, with correspondent Christina Coleman reporting on the newly available materials.

The prosecution's steady hand

Collin County District Attorney Greg Willis struck a deliberate tone throughout the case. After the grand jury indicted Anthony on June 24, 2025, Willis addressed the public attention the case had drawn.

"We know this case has struck a deep nerve, here in Collin County and beyond. That's understandable. When something like this happens at a school event, it shakes people to the core."

He added: "But the justice system works best when it moves with steadiness and with principle. That's what we're committed to. And that's exactly what this case deserves."

Willis said his team had worked for weeks to present evidence to the grand jury before securing the indictment. The charge, murder, a first-degree felony, carried a possible sentence of five to 99 years or life in prison. The 35-year sentence the jury ultimately imposed landed in the lower-middle range of that spectrum.

The case also generated reactions that tested the limits of decency. A Texas parole supervisor was fired after celebrating Metcalf's death online, a reminder that the cultural toxicity surrounding the case extended well beyond the courtroom.

Who Austin Metcalf was

Metcalf's memorial service was held April 12, 2025, at Hope Fellowship Frisco East. His obituary remembered his "infectious laughter and gentle spirit," his "kindness, genuineness, and reliability," and his "fearless approach to sports, strong work ethic, and dream of playing college football." It highlighted his love for the Texas outdoors, especially fishing trips with his father and brother.

He was 17 years old. He was at a track meet. He never came home.

Anthony's legal team has signaled he intends to challenge the verdict on appeal. That process will unfold on its own timeline. But the facts that emerged at trial, the knife, the witnesses, the body-camera audio, the jury's rejection of the self-defense claim, are now part of the public record.

The broader question the case raises is not a new one, but it remains urgent: how seriously does the system treat violence at school events, and how willing are institutions to hold young offenders accountable when the evidence demands it? In this instance, at least, the courts did not flinch.

Thirty-five years is a long sentence for a teenager. Austin Metcalf's family would tell you it's not long enough for a life.