Everything Paul Hunter ever wanted to do was practice the game.
A competitive passion, caught at the age of three with the help of a small snooker set on his home's central table in Leeds, would lead to a pro playing days that saw him claim half a dozen major wins in six years.
This year marks two decades since the popular Hunter died from cancer, just days before to his twenty-eighth birthday.
But despite the tragic departure of a phenomenal skill that rose above the sport he adored, his influence and memory on the sport and those who knew him remain as strong as ever.
"We could not have predicted in a billion years our son would become a career sportsman," his mother states.
"However he just was passionate about it."
Alan Hunter remembers how his son "wasn't bothered about anything else" other than snooker as a youth.
"He was relentless," he notes. "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 great skill.
His natural ability would be nurtured by the 1986 World Champion 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 regularly going unheeded as the game dominated, his parents took the "gamble" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully concentrate on forging a career in the game.
It was a resounding success. Within half a decade, their young son had won his maior professional trophy, the Welsh Open of 1998.
Considered one of snooker's most difficult competitions to win because of the presence of exclusively the best, Hunter won a trio of times, in 2001, 2002 and 2004.
But for all his achievements in competition, away from the game Hunter's approachable nature never deserted him.
"His demeanor was excellent did Paul," Alan says. "He connected with everybody."
"Upon meeting him you'd like him," Kristina continues. "Paul was fun. He'd make you relaxed."
Hunter's widow Lindsey, with whom he had a daughter, 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, youthful appearance and candid way with the press, not to mention his immense skill, Hunter quickly became snooker's pin-up for the modern era.
No wonder then, that he was christened 'The Snooker World's Beckham'.
In that year, a year that should have marked the peak of his powers, Hunter was found to have cancer and would later undergo chemotherapy.
Multiple accounts from across the snooker circuit highlight the man's extraordinary dedication to honor obligations to charity matches, tournaments, and media duties, all while going through treatment.
Despite gruelling side effects, Hunter kept playing through the illness and received a rapturous applause at The famous Sheffield venue when he competed in the World Championships that year.
When he passed away in the mid-2000s, snooker's family-like circuit lost one of its best-loved members.
"The pain is immense," Kristina says. "I wouldn't wish any mum and dad to lose a child."
Hunter's true contribution would be felt not in palaces and castles but in local sports centers across the UK.
The Paul Hunter Foundation, set up before his death, would provide free snooker sessions to youths all over the country.
The scheme was so successful that, according to reports, anti-social behavior in some areas fell sharply.
"The idea was for a platform to help get kids off the street," one official said.
The Foundation helped establish the basis for a major coaching programme, which has extended playing opportunities to children all over the world.
"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 via the internet help his parents stay "close to him".
"I can watch it and I can watch Paul at any moment," Kristina says. "It's marvellous!"
"We don't mind talking about Paul," she continues. "Before it would be tears, but I'd rather somebody talk than him not be spoken of."
Although he never won the World Championship, the common opinion that Hunter would have secured snooker's ultimate trophy is etched into the sport's folklore.
The Masters, the competition with which he is most associated, begins later this month. The winner will lift the memorial cup.
But for all his accomplishments, 20 years after his death it is Paul Hunter's spirit, as much his dazzling snooker ability, that will ensure he is always remembered.