Everything the Leeds-born talent always wished to do was practice the game.
A sporting bug, caught at the tender age of three with the help of a miniature snooker set on his family's living room table in the city of Leeds, would lead to a pro playing days that saw him secure six significant titles in a six-year span.
This year marks a score of years since the beloved Hunter succumbed to cancer, mere days prior to his twenty-eighth birthday.
But notwithstanding the passing of a generational talent that transcended the sport he adored, his influence and memory on the game and those who were close to him endure as vibrant now.
"We could not have predicted in a lifetime Paul would become a pro on the circuit," Hunter's mum recalls.
"But he just adored it."
Alan Hunter recounts how his son "showed no interest in anything else" besides snooker as a child.
"His dedication was constant," he adds. "He practiced every night after school."
After persistently asking his dad to take him to a local club to play on professional-standard tables at the age of eight, the young Hunter made the transition from miniature games with great skill.
His natural ability would be developed by the snooker legend Joe Johnson, from nearby Bradford, at a now defunct club in the north Leeds suburb of Yeadon.
With his mother and father's requests to do his homework often being ignored as practice took priority, his parents took the "risk" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully focus on carving out a career in the game.
It paid off in spades. Within a short period, their adolescent had won his maior professional trophy, the 1998 Welsh Open.
Considered one of snooker's toughest events to win because of the involvement of exclusively the best, Hunter triumphed on three occasions, in 2001, 2002 and 2004.
But for all his success on the table, away from the game Hunter's humble charm never left him.
"He had a great temperament did Paul," Alan says. "He got on with everybody."
"When encountering him you'd enjoy his company," Kristina adds. "He brought joy. He'd make you comfortable."
Hunter's wife Lindsey, with whom he had a daughter, describes him as an "amazing, young cheeky beautiful soul" who was "funny, kind" and "typically the final guest at the party".
With his effortless appeal, boyish good looks and candid way with the press, not to mention his immense skill, Hunter quickly became snooker's pin-up for the modern era.
No wonder then, that he was christened 'The Beckham of the Baize'.
In that year, a year that should have signaled the height of his career, Hunter was found to have cancer and would later undergo aggressive treatment.
Multiple anecdotes from across the sporting world attest to the man's extraordinary commitment to honor obligations to public appearances and promotional work, all while going through treatment.
Despite gruelling side effects, Hunter continued to compete through the illness and received a tumultuous reception at The World Championship arena when he competed in the World Championships that year.
When he succumbed in the mid-2000s, snooker's tight community lost one of its best-loved members.
"It's awful," Kristina says. "It is a terrible thing for any mum and dad to go through that pain."
Hunter's true contribution would be felt not in royal circles but in local sports centers across the UK.
The Paul Hunter Foundation, set up before his death, would provide free snooker sessions to children all over the country.
The scheme was so successful that, according to reports, anti-social behavior in some areas dropped significantly.
"The goal was for a program to help get kids off the street," one official said.
The Foundation helped establish the basis for a major coaching programme, which has provided playing opportunities to children internationally.
"Paul would have loved what we've done with the sport and where it is today," a leading figure in the sport stated.
Archive videos of their son's matches via the internet help his parents stay "in touch with his memory".
"I can watch it and I can watch Paul anytime," Kristina says. "It's marvellous!"
"We are happy to speak about Paul," she continues. "Initially it was painful, but I'd rather somebody remember him than him not be recalled."
Even though he never won the World Championship, the widespread belief that Hunter would have eventually won snooker's top honor is etched into the sport's legend.
The Masters, the competition with which he is most associated, commences later this month. The winner will lift the trophy named in his honor.
But for all his successes, 20 years after his death it is Paul Hunter's personality, as much his brilliant talent on the table, that will ensure he is forever celebrated.
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