This week, Karmelo Anthony, 19, was convicted and sentenced to 35 years in prison for the murder of Austin Metcalf at a high school track meet in Frisco, Texas, last year. Anthony, 17 at the time, stabbed Metcalf once in the heart when the two argued about Anthony, a student at Centennial High School, sitting under Metcalf’s Memorial High School tent. The killing divided the Dallas suburb along racial lines and drew national attention. Metcalf was white, and Anthony is Black.

This tragedy for both families and the fast-growing community, neither of which will ever be the same, elicits more questions than answers. Like:

·         Why was Anthony, an A student and football captain with no criminal record, carrying a knife in his backpack? Some reports say Anthony was being bullied, though those claims were not tested at trial.

·         With the overt racial overtones, why would the judge allow a jury to be seated without a single Black member?

·         Why did the defense call a witness from Frisco Memorial, who, while under cross-examination, testified that Anthony provoked Metcalf?

·         During the penalty phase, why did the defense only call Anthony’s mother to testify, rather than others like coaches, teachers, or supervisors from the two jobs Anthony held?

These are simply a few of the many questions one could ponder about this senseless killing that destroyed the lives of these two accomplished athletes and “good kids.”

In his closing arguments, prosecutor Bill Wirskye told the jury,

“Ultimately, this case is about accountability. What kind of community do you want to live in.”

If one believes that, then Wirskye got the accountability he hoped for. Arguably, so did the Metcalf family. But is that all of the accountability that should be doled out in this case? Does the culture of high school athletics in America bear some responsibility?

“Track Meet Culture” was a central theme in the trial. Prosecutors put witnesses on the stand who testified that the culture dictated that students from opposing high schools did not enter one another’s tents. These witnesses were called to establish that Anthony provoked Metcalf and others by entering the tent to escape the rain, which had delayed the track meet. It should be noted that Anthony’s team’s tent had not arrived at the meet yet.

The defense called its own witness, a coach, who testified that participants did in fact mingle and entered the tents of other schools at certain times during meets. He characterized it as a “social hour.”

Once Anthony was seated in the tent, multiple Memorial athletes, not just Metcalf, told Anthony to leave. Anthony refused to leave and verbally sparred with the other athletes. Metcalf took the initiative to push and possibly grab Anthony. Whatever happened in that moment, the response by Anthony doesn’t seem proportional, but one must wonder why it mattered if he sat in an opposing school’s tent.

There was no testimony given that Anthony caused a ruckus or taunted the Memorial athletes upon taking shelter under the tent. There was testimony that Metcalf and Anthony did not know one another, so there was no pre-existing “beef.” Then, why should a fellow athlete, and more importantly, human, be denied shelter from the rain simply because he attends another school?

In America, we are constantly reminded of the value of kids participating in sports. Besides the physical health benefits, we are told about character development, discipline, and leadership skills that come with being an athlete.

At the high school level, though, sports and star athletes are idolized. Teenagers with undeveloped frontal lobes are often treated like gladiators trained and lauded for destroying the “weak.” They worship colors, logos, mascots, and tradition. For some, self-worth is found in making the team, becoming a starter, and being chosen as captain. Leadership is defined as outworking your teammates, barking orders on the field or court, and making a heads-up play. Playing the game is about winning, not about how you play.

It is not just coaches and administrators who bear responsibility. It’s parents and society, too. What happened in Frisco, Texas would not have happened if athletes were taught that humility outranks pride and that humanity is far above feigned sportsmanship. Athletes should be rewarded for genuine kindness toward opponents, rather than criticized for losing focus. Coaches, administrators, and parents must model the truth that walking away or de-escalating are measures of strength, not weakness.

It would be naïve to think that this incident will change the culture of sports in America. We love our teams, the magical plays, the moments of pure elation, and even the pain of losing the big one affects our psyches in ways that are hard to explain. Yes, we love our sports, our teams, and reliving those unforgettable times. Let’s just hope that some of us will start to love these kids more.