All the Leeds-born talent truly desired to do was play snooker.
A competitive passion, sparked at the tender age of three with the help of a tiny snooker set on his family's living room table in his Leeds home, would result in a life on the tour that saw him secure half a dozen major wins in a six-year span.
Now marks a score of years since the popular Hunter succumbed to cancer, mere days prior to his twenty-eighth birthday.
But despite the tragic departure of a phenomenal skill that went beyond the game he loved, his legacy and impact on snooker and those who were close to him persist as strong as ever.
"We'd never have known in a billion years the boy would become a professional snooker player," Hunter's mum states.
"But he just loved it."
Alan Hunter recounts how his son "wasn't bothered about anything else" other than snooker as a young boy.
"He never stopped," he says. "He competed 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 budding player made the jump from home play with great skill.
His raw skill would be coached by the former world title holder Joe Johnson, from nearby Bradford, at a now defunct club in the area of Yeadon.
With his mother and father's requests to do his homework regularly going unheeded as training came first, his parents took the "gamble" of taking Hunter out of school at the age of 14 to fully dedicate himself to building a career in the game.
It was a resounding success. Within half a decade, their still-teenage son had won his initial major win, the late-nineties Welsh championship.
Considered one of snooker's most difficult competitions to win because of the lineup featuring elite players only, Hunter was victorious a trio of times, in the early 2000s.
But for all his success on the table, away from the game Hunter's humble charm never deserted him.
"His demeanor was excellent did Paul," Alan says. "He connected with everybody."
"When encountering him you'd take to him," Kristina adds. "Paul was fun. He'd make you feel at ease."
Hunter's wife Lindsey, with whom he had a child, describes him as an "amazing, young cheeky beautiful soul" who was "witty, generous" and "always the last to leave the party".
With his easy charm, boyish good looks and candid way with the press, not to mention his considerable talent, Hunter quickly became snooker's poster boy for the modern era.
No wonder then, that he was nicknamed 'The Beckham of the Baize'.
In that year, a year that should have marked the peak of his powers, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo chemotherapy.
Multiple anecdotes from across the snooker circuit attest to the man's extraordinary dedication to keep promises to charity matches, tournaments, and media duties, 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 passed away in the mid-2000s, snooker's close-knit fraternity lost one of its most popular brothers.
"The pain is immense," Kristina says. "It is a terrible thing for any mum and dad to suffer such a loss."
Hunter's true contribution would be felt not in palaces and castles but in snooker halls and clubs across the UK.
The Paul Hunter Foundation, set up before his death, would provide free snooker sessions to children all over the country.
The initiative was so successful that, according to reports, local youth crime rates in some areas plummeted.
"The aim remained for a program to help provide a positive outlet," one official said.
The Foundation helped pave the way for a major coaching programme, which has provided playing opportunities to children all over the world.
"Paul would have loved what we've done with the sport and where it is today," a senior official in the sport stated.
Archive videos of their son's matches via the internet help his parents stay "in touch with his memory".
"I can access it and I can watch Paul whenever I wish," Kristina says. "It's wonderful!"
"We are happy to speak about Paul," she adds. "At first it was sad, but I'd rather somebody remember him than him not be mentioned at all."
Even though he never won the World Championship, the widespread belief that Hunter would have gone on to lift snooker's ultimate trophy is ingrained in 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 successes, a generation after his death it is Paul Hunter's personality, as much his dazzling snooker ability, that will ensure he is forever celebrated.
A passionate golfer and journalist with over a decade of experience covering PGA tours and equipment innovations.