All the Leeds-born talent ever wanted to do was play snooker.
A sporting bug, developed at the age of three with the help of a tiny snooker set on his home's central table in the city of Leeds, would result in a pro playing days that saw him secure six significant titles in six years.
The present year marks a score of years since the adored Hunter succumbed to cancer, mere days prior to his twenty-eighth birthday.
But in spite of the tragic departure of a phenomenal skill that went beyond the sport he adored, his influence and memory on the sport and those who knew him persist as powerful today.
"It was impossible to foresee in a billion years the boy would become a professional snooker player," Kristina Hunter states.
"But he just was passionate about it."
Alan Hunter recalls how his son "showed no interest in anything else" besides snooker as a youth.
"He never stopped," he notes. "He would play every night after school."
After persistently asking his dad to take him to a community venue to play on professional-standard tables at the age of eight, the aspiring talent made the leap from miniature games with great skill.
His natural ability would be nurtured by the 1986 World Champion Joe Johnson, from neighbouring Bradford, at a now former establishment in the north Leeds suburb of Yeadon.
With his parents' pleas to do his homework regularly going unheeded as practice took priority, his parents took the "gamble" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully concentrate on forging a career in the game.
It paid off in spades. Within a short period, their young son had won his first ranking title, the 1998 Welsh Open.
Considered one of snooker's toughest events to win because of the lineup featuring exclusively the best, Hunter won 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 faded.
"He was incredibly composed did Paul," Alan says. "He got on with everybody."
"Upon meeting him you'd like him," Kristina adds. "He was enjoyable. He'd make you feel at ease."
Hunter's partner Lindsey, with whom he had daughter Evie, describes him as an "incredible, lively, and kind spirit" who was "funny, kind" and "never the first to depart from the party".
With his natural likability, youthful appearance and honest interview style, not to mention his prodigious ability, Hunter quickly became snooker's pin-up for the modern era.
No wonder then, that he was dubbed 'The Beckham of the Baize'.
In 2005, a year that should have marked the peak of his powers, Hunter was told he had cancer and would later undergo aggressive treatment.
Multiple anecdotes from across the sporting world highlight the man's extraordinary dedication to fulfill commitments to public appearances and promotional work, all while enduring treatment.
Despite difficult symptoms, Hunter kept playing through the illness and received a standing ovation at The World Championship arena when he turned out for the World Championships that year.
When he died in autumn 2006, snooker's tight community lost one of its cherished personalities.
"It's awful," Kristina says. "I wouldn't wish any mum and dad to go through that pain."
Hunter's true contribution would be felt not in royal circles but in snooker halls and clubs across the UK.
The Paul Hunter Foundation, set up before his death, would provide accessible training to young people all over the country.
The program was so successful that, according to reports, anti-social behavior in some areas dropped significantly.
"The idea was for a scheme to help offer a constructive activity," one organizer said.
The Foundation helped establish the basis for a significant coaching programme, which has provided playing opportunities to children internationally.
"He would have embraced what we've done with the sport and where it is today," a senior official in the sport stated.
Classic footage of their son's matches on YouTube help his parents stay "connected to him".
"I can access it and I can watch Paul at any moment," Kristina says. "It's a comfort!"
"We don't mind talking about Paul," she adds. "Initially it was painful, but I'd rather somebody mention him than him not be spoken of."
While he never won the World Championship, the common opinion that Hunter would have gone on to lift snooker's top honor is etched into the sport's legend.
The Masters, the competition with which he is forever linked, starts later this month. The winner will lift the memorial cup.
But for all his achievements, a generation after his death it is Paul Hunter's personality, as much his dazzling snooker ability, that will ensure he is never forgotten.
Elara is a passionate writer and photographer who shares insights on creativity and mindful living through engaging storytelling.
