All the young snooker player always wished to do was play snooker.
A sporting bug, caught at the tender age of three with the help of a tiny snooker set on his parents' coffee table in the city of Leeds, would culminate in a pro playing days that saw him win half a dozen major wins in six years.
This year marks 20 years since the adored Hunter died from cancer, just days before to his twenty-eighth birthday.
But in spite of the loss of a generational talent that went beyond the sport he adored, his legacy and impact on snooker and those who followed his career endure as vibrant now.
"We could not have predicted in a lifetime our son would become a professional snooker player," Hunter's mum states.
"But he just loved it."
Hunter's father remembers how his son "cared little for anything else" other than snooker as a youth.
"He was relentless," he says. "He practiced 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 transition from miniature games with aplomb.
His mercurial talent would be nurtured by the 1986 World Champion Joe Johnson, from nearby Bradford, at a now former establishment in the area of Yeadon.
With his parents' pleas to do his homework regularly going unheeded as training came first, his parents took the "gamble" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully dedicate himself to forging a career in the game.
It proved a masterstroke. Within half a decade, their adolescent had won his initial major win, the 1998 Welsh Open.
Considered one of snooker's most difficult competitions to win because of the involvement of exclusively the best, Hunter won on three occasions, in 2001, 2002 and 2004.
But for all his achievements in competition, away from the game Hunter's humble charm never left him.
"His demeanor was excellent did Paul," Alan says. "He got on with everybody."
"If you met him you'd enjoy his company," Kristina adds. "He brought joy. He'd make you comfortable."
Hunter's widow Lindsey, with whom he had daughter Evie, describes him as an "wonderful, youthful, and fun personality" who was "funny, kind" and "typically the final guest at the party".
With his natural likability, handsome features and straight-talking media manner, not to mention his considerable talent, Hunter quickly became snooker's leading figure for the new millennium.
No wonder then, that he was nicknamed 'A Sporting Icon'.
In that year, a year that should have been the zenith of his talent, Hunter was told he had cancer and would later undergo chemotherapy.
Multiple anecdotes from across the sporting world attest to the man's extraordinary willingness to fulfill commitments to public appearances and promotional work, all while undergoing treatment.
Despite gruelling side effects, Hunter kept playing through the illness and received a standing ovation at The World Championship arena when he played at the World Championships that year.
When he died in autumn 2006, snooker's close-knit fraternity lost one of its best-loved members.
"It is tragic," Kristina says. "I wouldn't wish any mum and dad to lose a child."
Hunter's true contribution would be felt not in high society but in snooker halls and clubs across the UK.
The foundation he inspired, set up before his death, would provide accessible training to children all over the country.
The initiative was so successful that, according to reports, anti-social behavior in some areas fell sharply.
"The idea was for a platform to help provide a positive outlet," one official said.
The Foundation helped establish the basis for a major coaching programme, which has extended playing opportunities to children internationally.
"Paul would have loved what we've done with the sport and where it is today," a senior official in the sport stated.
Historic matches of their son's matches online help his parents stay "connected to him".
"I can watch it and I can watch Paul whenever I wish," Kristina says. "It's wonderful!"
"We like to reminisce about Paul," she continues. "At first it was sad, but I'd rather somebody remember him than him not be mentioned at all."
While he never won the World Championship, the widespread belief that Hunter would have eventually won snooker's greatest prize is a part of the sport's folklore.
The Masters, the competition with which he is most synonymous, begins later this month. The winner will lift the memorial cup.
But for all his successes, 20 years after his death it is Paul Hunter's character, as much his spectacular skill with a cue, that will ensure he is never forgotten.
Lena is a passionate gamer and tech writer, specializing in indie games and esports coverage.