A college strength coach allegedly knew a freshman football player had Sickle Cell trait, had been told by other coaches the workout wasn't safe, and ran the kid through 100 up-downs and full-body planks on day one anyway. Calvin "CJ" Dickey Jr. was 18 years old. He died two days after collapsing on that field.
What Happened to CJ Dickey
According to CBS News, Mark Kulbis was Bucknell University's strength and conditioning coach on July 10, 2024, when he ran freshman football players through a punishing first-day session that included 100 "up-downs" and multiple full-body plank drills. Dickey, a brand-new freshman, was visibly struggling. Kulbis did not stop. He did not get help. He waited until Dickey passed out.
Dickey was rushed to the hospital. He died two days later on July 12, 2024. He was a kid who had just started college. His family is now burying him instead of watching him play football.
An autopsy determined the cause of death was a combination of the extreme exercise, Dickey's Sickle Cell trait, his body weight, and exertional rhabdomyolysis, a condition where muscle tissue breaks down so rapidly it floods the bloodstream with proteins that can shut down the kidneys. It is a known, documented risk for people with Sickle Cell trait under extreme physical stress. It is not a mystery. It is not unforeseeable.
He Knew. That's the Whole Story.
Here's the thing that makes this so infuriating. Pennsylvania Attorney General Dave Sunday's office says Kulbis was not operating in ignorance. He had received specific training from Bucknell about Sickle Cell trait. He knew about Dickey's medical condition. Other coaches had told him the exercises were not safe. He ran them anyway.
This is not a tragic accident born of ignorance. This is a coach who had been handed the relevant information, told directly that what he was planning to do was dangerous, and decided to do it regardless. Why? Presumably because making freshmen suffer on day one felt, to him, like coaching. Like toughness. Like tradition.
Tradition is doing a lot of heavy lifting for a dead 18-year-old.
The Charges and the Law Behind Them
CBS News reports that Kulbis now faces felony aggravated hazing, plus misdemeanor counts of involuntary manslaughter and reckless endangerment. The aggravated hazing charge is a relatively new addition to Pennsylvania law, passed specifically because of what happened to Tim Piazza, a Penn State student who died in a fraternity hazing in 2017.
Attorney General Sunday put it plainly in a press release: "This law exists because it recognizes what hazing is: criminal conduct that, in the best possible scenario, humiliates and dehumanizes an individual, and at its worst, takes lives and leaves families and friends forever devastated."
The charges reframe something that has long hidden behind the language of athletics and tradition. Forcing vulnerable people through dangerous physical ordeals they have not consented to, for no legitimate training purpose, is hazing. Calling it a workout does not make it legal. Calling it "building character" does not bring CJ Dickey back.
This Keeps Happening
Dickey's death is not an isolated incident. College athletes with Sickle Cell trait have been dying from exertional rhabdomyolysis for decades. The NCAA has had protocols around Sickle Cell trait since at least 2010. Multiple deaths have been documented. Lawsuits have been filed. Settlements have been paid. Guidance has been published, distributed, and apparently ignored by coaches who believe that suffering is a prerequisite to toughness.
Bucknell is a small Division I school in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, not a football factory. But the culture that produces this kind of death is not exclusive to powerhouse programs. It lives anywhere an authority figure decides that a new kid needs to be broken down before he can be built up, and that medical reality is something other people worry about.
Kulbis has since been fired from Bucknell. That should go without saying, but it still needed to be said.
The Dingo Take
Let's be honest about what this story is. A grown adult with professional training, explicit medical knowledge about a specific student in his care, and direct warnings from colleagues, chose to physically punish that student until the student's body quit. Then he waited for the kid to hit the floor before calling for help. That is not a coaching philosophy. That is a crime. The attorney general of Pennsylvania agrees.
The hazing framing matters. For years, the legal system struggled to prosecute cases like this because coaches and institutions could dress up cruelty as athletic conditioning. Pennsylvania closed that loophole after Tim Piazza died. CJ Dickey's death is now being prosecuted under that same framework, and that is the correct call. When you know someone has a condition that makes a specific exercise potentially fatal and you run them through it anyway, you don't get to hide behind the word "practice."
CJ Dickey's family will never watch him play a college football game. They will never see what he became. They lost all of that because someone with a whistle and a clipboard thought 100 up-downs on day one would toughen up the freshmen. Kulbis will have his day in court. Whatever happens there, the facts are already in. This kid deserved better from every adult in that room.
