All the young snooker player ever wanted to do was play snooker.
A sporting bug, caught at the tender age of three with the help of a miniature snooker set on his parents' coffee table in Leeds, would culminate in a pro playing days that saw him win half a dozen major wins in six years.
Now marks 20 years since the adored Hunter passed away from cancer, days short to his birthday marking 28 years.
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 endure as vibrant now.
"It was impossible to foresee in a billion years Paul would become a career sportsman," Kristina Hunter says.
"However he just adored it."
Hunter's father remembers how his son "wasn't bothered about anything else" other than snooker as a child.
"His dedication was constant," he says. "He competed every night after school."
After persistently asking his dad to take him to a local club to play on full-size tables at the age of eight, the budding player made the transition from table top snooker with great skill.
His natural ability would be nurtured by the snooker legend Joe Johnson, from the adjacent city, at a now closed venue in the Leeds district of Yeadon.
With his family's urging to do his homework increasingly falling on deaf ears as the game dominated, his parents took the "risk" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully focus on forging a career in the game.
It was a resounding success. Within half a decade, their young son had won his first ranking title, the Welsh Open of 1998.
Considered one of snooker's hardest tournaments to win because of the lineup featuring only the top competitors, Hunter was victorious a trio of times, in the early 2000s.
But for all his triumphs in the sport, away from the game Hunter's approachable nature never deserted him.
"His demeanor was excellent did Paul," Alan says. "He connected with everybody."
"When encountering him you'd take to him," Kristina continues. "Paul was fun. He'd make you comfortable."
Hunter's widow Lindsey, with whom he had a daughter, describes him as an "amazing, young cheeky beautiful soul" who was "witty, generous" and "never the first to depart from the party".
With his effortless appeal, youthful appearance and honest interview style, not to mention his considerable talent, Hunter quickly became snooker's leading figure for the new millennium.
No wonder then, that he was dubbed 'A Sporting Icon'.
In that year, a year that should have been the height of his career, Hunter was found to have cancer and would later undergo aggressive treatment.
Multiple accounts from across the professional tour highlight the man's extraordinary willingness to fulfill commitments to charity matches, tournaments, and media duties, all while enduring treatment.
Despite difficult symptoms, Hunter played on through the illness and received a rapturous applause at The World Championship arena when he played at the World Championships that year.
When he passed away in October 2006, snooker's tight community lost one of its cherished personalities.
"It's awful," Kristina says. "No parent should experience any mum and dad to suffer such a loss."
Hunter's true impact would be felt not in high society but in local sports centers across the UK.
The foundation he inspired, set up before his death, would provide free snooker sessions to young people all over the country.
The scheme was so successful that, according to reports, issues with young people in some areas dropped significantly.
"The aim remained for a scheme to help provide a positive outlet," one official said.
The Foundation helped pave the way for a major coaching programme, which has opened up playing opportunities to children globally.
"He would have embraced what we've done with the sport and where it is today," a leading figure in the sport stated.
Classic footage of their son's matches online help his parents stay "close to him".
"I can watch it and I can watch Paul whenever I wish," Kristina says. "It's wonderful!"
"We are happy to speak about Paul," she continues. "Before it would be tears, but I'd rather somebody remember him than him not be spoken of."
While he never won the World Championship, the highly probable notion that Hunter would have eventually won snooker's ultimate trophy is ingrained in the sport's folklore.
The Masters, the competition with which he is most associated, begins later this month. The winner will lift the trophy named in his honor.
But for all his successes, a generation after his death it is Paul Hunter's character, as much his spectacular skill with a cue, that will ensure he is never forgotten.