When it comes to unusual wrestling careers, the story of Frankie Gomez is especially fascinating. It’s full of twists and turns, some of which make him sound like an ideal candidate for a Netflix documentary, provided they can actually find him for the filming.
Early on, the Mexican-American fighter from California was considered a boxing wunderkind. He was feted by the likes of Oscar de la Hoya, who signed Gomez to his estimable stable of boxing talent that eventually became Golden Boy Productions.
Gomez definitely had talent. He was a stellar amateur, and in 2007 he won the Junior Olympic National Championship, along with a Gold medal in the Cadet World Championship. He went on to become the US Amateur National Champion at the age of 17, whipping Jose Benavidez to take that title.
With that kind of talent, it almost seems inevitable that there are all kinds of semi-apocryphal stories floating around about the ultimately mysterious Gomez. One of the more fantastic ones tells the tale about world- famous trainer Freddie Roach, who supposedly didn’t want Gomez sparring with the legendary Manny Pacquiao, lest Roach’s charge end up on the wrong end of Gomez’s lightning-fast hands.
Rest assured, though, Gomez did go on to have an estimable career. He started his boxing journey by going 21-0, beating both veterans and fellow youngsters alike in a variety of settings. He seemed well on his way to stardom, but then one of those strange twists happened.
Gomez, who is still only 28 years old—he was born in 1992—has mysteriously disappeared from the boxing world since that rocket start. His last noteworthy bout took place in 2011, when he defeated Khadaphi Proctor in a fight that was televised on Telefutura.
On to the juicy stuff, which is an integral part of the Gomez story. He was supposed to fight Humberto Soto back in 2015 in a bout at Minute Maid Park that was scheduled to be televised on HBO, with the bout to be given a prime slot.
But the fight never happened. Gomez, who bounced back and forth between two of the lower weight classes throughout his brief career, was 6.5 pounds overweight, and the bout had to be cancelled.
A brief round of negotiations followed, and Soto agreed to up the weight limit to 145 pounds. But Gomez couldn’t make that weight either, checking in 2.5 pounds higher at just over 147.
Soto was still willing to fight, provided Gomez tried to shed a few pounds and there was yet another weigh- in right before the fight. But Gomez was deemed unfit to fight due to the extra weight and the possibility of resulting medical issues, so the bout never happened.
What did take place was plenty of controversy about Gomez’s contractual obligations. His initial signing bonus was in the neighborhood of $400K, and Gomez got to keep the five-figure advance he took on what would have been a $250K purse in his contest with Soto.
Golden Boy VP Eric Gomez—no relation—made a telling comment about the negotiations that took place.
“Somebody has to be the adult in the room,” he said, lauding Soto for taking that role from the other side of the room. “We had to do the right thing.”
But no one seems to know what the right thing is for Frankie Gomez going forward. Many consider his story one of unfulfilled potential, and there has been all sorts of speculative stories about various disasters that may or may not have befallen this talented fighter.
Pictures of him do surface on the Internet every now and then, so this at least debunks the more lurid stories.
But boxing aficionados will forever wonder about what might have been, and the questions about what Gomez did, why he did it, and what happened as a result seem more than justified.