All Paul Hunter truly desired 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 miniature snooker set on his home's central table in the city of Leeds, would result in a pro playing days that saw him win half a dozen major wins in half a dozen years.
Now marks two decades since the beloved Hunter passed away from cancer, mere days prior to his 28th birthday.
But despite the passing of a once-in-a-generation player that rose above the game he loved, his influence and memory on the game and those who were close to him endure as vibrant now.
"We'd never have known in a billion years our son would become a pro on the circuit," Kristina Hunter states.
"Yet he just adored it."
Hunter's father remembers how his son "showed no interest in anything else" except for snooker as a child.
"His dedication was constant," he says. "He practiced 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 home play with aplomb.
His mercurial talent would be nurtured by the former world title holder Joe Johnson, from neighbouring Bradford, at a now former establishment in the north Leeds suburb of Yeadon.
With his mother and father's requests to do his homework often being ignored as practice took priority, his parents took the "gamble" of taking Hunter out of school at the fourteen years old to fully concentrate on carving out a career in the game.
It was a resounding success. Within half a decade, their young son had won his initial major win, the late-nineties Welsh championship.
Considered one of snooker's hardest tournaments to win because of the presence of only the top competitors, Hunter triumphed on three occasions, in the early 2000s.
But for all his achievements in competition, away from the game Hunter's humble charm never faded.
"He was incredibly composed did Paul," Alan says. "He got on with everybody."
"When encountering him you'd like him," Kristina states. "He brought joy. He'd make you relaxed."
Hunter's widow Lindsey, with whom he had a child, describes him as an "amazing, young cheeky beautiful soul" 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 considerable talent, Hunter quickly became snooker's poster boy for the modern era.
No wonder then, that he was christened 'The Beckham of the Baize'.
In 2005, a year that should have marked the peak of his powers, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo chemotherapy.
Multiple accounts from across the professional tour highlight the man's extraordinary commitment to fulfill commitments to public appearances and promotional work, all while enduring treatment.
Despite harsh reactions, Hunter kept playing through the illness and received a tumultuous reception at The Crucible Theatre when he competed in the World Championships that year.
When he died in October 2006, snooker's tight community lost one of its most popular brothers.
"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 high society but in community venues across the UK.
The Paul Hunter Foundation, set up before his death, would provide free snooker sessions to children all over the country.
The program was so successful that, according to reports, local youth crime rates in some areas dropped significantly.
"The goal was for a program to help provide a positive outlet," one coach said.
The Foundation helped pave the way for a significant coaching programme, which has extended playing opportunities to children internationally.
"He would have embraced 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 "close to him".
"I can access it and I can watch Paul at any moment," Kristina says. "It's wonderful!"
"We are happy to speak about Paul," she adds. "Initially it was painful, but I'd rather somebody talk than him not be recalled."
Although he never won the World Championship, the common opinion that Hunter would have secured snooker's ultimate trophy is ingrained in the sport's legend.
The Masters, the competition with which he is forever linked, starts later this month. The winner will lift the trophy named in his honor.
But for all his successes, two decades after his death it is Paul Hunter's spirit, as much his spectacular skill with a cue, that will ensure he is forever celebrated.
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