Everything the young snooker player ever wanted to do was compete on the baize.
A love for the game, caught at the tender age of three with the help of a miniature snooker set on his family's living room table in Leeds, would culminate in a professional career that saw him secure six major trophies in six years.
The present year marks a score of years since the adored Hunter passed away from cancer, mere days prior to his twenty-eighth birthday.
But despite the tragic departure of a generational talent that transcended the sport he adored, his legacy and impact on the game and those who knew him persist as powerful today.
"We could not have predicted in a lifetime the boy would become a career sportsman," Kristina Hunter says.
"However he just adored it."
His dad recounts how his son "cared little for anything else" besides snooker as a youth.
"His dedication was constant," he notes. "He practiced every night after school."
After repeatedly pleading with his dad to take him to a local club to play on full-size tables at the age of eight, the young Hunter made the leap from table top snooker with aplomb.
His mercurial talent would be coached by the snooker legend Joe Johnson, from the adjacent city, at a now closed venue in the north Leeds suburb of Yeadon.
With his parents' pleas to do his homework often being ignored as the game dominated, his parents took the "risk" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully dedicate himself to forging a career in the game.
It was a resounding success. Within five years, their still-teenage son had won his initial major win, the late-nineties Welsh championship.
Considered one of snooker's toughest events to win because of the presence of elite players only, Hunter won three times, in consecutive years.
But for all his achievements in competition, away from the game Hunter's down-to-earth charisma never faded.
"He had a great temperament did Paul," Alan says. "He got on with everybody."
"Upon meeting him you'd enjoy his company," Kristina states. "He was enjoyable. He'd make you feel at ease."
Hunter's widow Lindsey, with whom he had daughter Evie, describes him as an "wonderful, youthful, and fun personality" who was "humorous, caring" and "typically the final guest at the party".
With his natural likability, handsome features and straight-talking media manner, not to mention his immense skill, Hunter quickly became snooker's poster boy for the new millennium.
No wonder then, that he was dubbed 'The Beckham of the Baize'.
In 2005, a year that should have signaled the peak of his powers, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo chemotherapy.
Multiple anecdotes from across the professional tour speak of the man's extraordinary commitment to fulfill commitments to exhibitions, events and press interviews, all while going through treatment.
Despite harsh reactions, Hunter played on through the illness and received a tumultuous reception at The Crucible Theatre when he turned out for the World Championships that year.
When he died in October 2006, snooker's tight community lost one of its cherished personalities.
"It is tragic," Kristina says. "It is a terrible thing for any mum and dad to go through that pain."
Hunter's true impact would be felt not in palaces and castles but in community venues across the UK.
The foundation he inspired, set up before his death, would provide accessible training to young people all over the country.
The initiative was so successful that, according to reports, anti-social behavior in some areas fell sharply.
"The goal was for a program to help provide a positive outlet," one coach said.
The Foundation helped pave the way for a major coaching programme, which has opened up 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 senior official in the sport stated.
Historic matches of their son's matches online help his parents stay "in touch with his memory".
"I can bring it up and I can watch Paul anytime," Kristina says. "It's marvellous!"
"We like to reminisce about Paul," she concludes. "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 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 associated, starts later this month. The winner will lift the memorial cup.
But for all his accomplishments, two decades after his death it is Paul Hunter's personality, as much his brilliant talent on the table, that will ensure he is forever celebrated.
