Elara is a seasoned journalist and digital content creator with a passion for uncovering stories that matter.
All the young snooker player always wished to do was compete on the baize.
A love for the game, caught at the very young age of three with the help of a tiny snooker set on his parents' coffee table in his Leeds home, would lead to a professional career that saw him win half a dozen major wins in six years.
This year marks a score of years since the popular Hunter succumbed to cancer, mere days prior to his birthday marking 28 years.
But despite the loss of a generational talent that went beyond the sport he adored, his enduring mark on the sport and those who knew him endure as vibrant now.
"We'd never have known in a billion years the boy would become a career sportsman," Kristina Hunter recalls.
"However he just was passionate about it."
Alan Hunter recounts how his son "wasn't bothered about anything else" other than snooker as a young boy.
"His dedication was constant," he says. "He would play every night after school."
After repeatedly pleading with his dad to take him to a nearby hall to play on full-size tables at the age of eight, the aspiring talent made the jump from miniature games with aplomb.
His natural ability would be coached by the snooker legend Joe Johnson, from nearby Bradford, at a now former establishment in the Leeds district of Yeadon.
With his mother and father's requests to do his homework regularly going unheeded as training came first, his parents took the "chance" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully dedicate himself to building a career in the game.
It paid off in spades. Within half a decade, their still-teenage son had won his maior professional trophy, the late-nineties Welsh championship.
Considered one of snooker's toughest events to win because of the lineup featuring only the top competitors, Hunter triumphed on three occasions, in consecutive years.
But for all his success on the table, away from the game Hunter's down-to-earth charisma never faded.
"His demeanor was excellent did Paul," Alan says. "He got on with everybody."
"Upon meeting him you'd enjoy his company," Kristina continues. "Paul was fun. He'd make you feel at ease."
Hunter's partner 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 easy charm, youthful appearance and candid way with the press, not to mention his immense skill, Hunter quickly became snooker's leading figure for the modern era.
No wonder then, that he was nicknamed 'A Sporting Icon'.
In 2005, a year that should have been the height of his career, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo aggressive treatment.
Multiple stories from across the sporting world speak of the man's extraordinary dedication to honor obligations to exhibitions, events and press interviews, all while going through treatment.
Despite difficult symptoms, Hunter played on through the illness and received a rapturous applause at The World Championship arena when he competed in the World Championships that year.
When he succumbed in October 2006, snooker's family-like circuit 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 legacy 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 no-cost coaching to youths all over the country.
The scheme was so successful that, according to reports, anti-social behavior in some areas fell sharply.
"The goal was for a scheme to help get kids off the street," one organizer said.
The Foundation helped lay the groundwork for a major coaching programme, which has provided playing opportunities to children all over the world.
"It would have thrilled him what we've done with the sport and where it is today," a leading figure in the sport stated.
Historic matches of their son's matches on YouTube help his parents stay "connected to him".
"I can access it and I can watch Paul whenever I wish," Kristina says. "It's wonderful!"
"We don't mind talking about Paul," she adds. "Initially it was painful, but I'd rather somebody talk than him not be spoken of."
Even though he never won the World Championship, the common opinion that Hunter would have eventually won snooker's greatest prize is a part of the sport's history.
The Masters, the competition with which he is forever linked, starts later this month. The winner will lift the Paul Hunter Trophy.
But for all his accomplishments, a generation after his death it is Paul Hunter's character, as much his dazzling snooker ability, that will ensure he is always remembered.
Elara is a seasoned journalist and digital content creator with a passion for uncovering stories that matter.
Rita Davis