Everything Paul Hunter always wished to do was play snooker.
A sporting bug, developed at the age of three with the help of a small snooker set on his family's living room table in Leeds, would result in a professional career that saw him claim six significant titles in a six-year span.
Now marks a score of years since the popular Hunter died from cancer, days short to his 28th birthday.
But in spite of the tragic departure of a once-in-a-generation player that rose above the game he loved, his enduring mark on the game and those who were close to him persist as powerful today.
"We could not have predicted in a million years the boy would become a professional snooker player," Kristina Hunter recalls.
"However he just adored it."
Hunter's father recalls how his son "showed no interest in anything else" other than snooker as a child.
"His dedication was constant," he adds. "He competed every night after school."
After successfully badgering his dad to take him to a community venue to play on full-size tables at the age of eight, the aspiring talent made the transition from home play with great skill.
His raw skill would be developed by the 1986 World Champion Joe Johnson, from neighbouring Bradford, at a now closed venue in the Leeds district of Yeadon.
With his parents' pleas to do his homework increasingly falling on deaf ears as the game dominated, his parents took the "chance" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully focus on carving out a career in the game.
It proved a masterstroke. Within a short period, their still-teenage son had won his first ranking title, the 1998 Welsh Open.
Considered one of snooker's hardest tournaments to win because of the presence of only the top competitors, Hunter was victorious on three occasions, in 2001, 2002 and 2004.
But for all his triumphs in the sport, away from the game Hunter's down-to-earth charisma never deserted him.
"He was incredibly composed did Paul," Alan says. "He was liked by everybody."
"Upon meeting him you'd like him," Kristina continues. "Paul was fun. He'd make you feel at ease."
Hunter's partner Lindsey, with whom he had a daughter, describes him as an "wonderful, youthful, and fun personality" who was "funny, kind" and "always the last to leave the party".
With his easy charm, handsome features and candid way with the press, not to mention his considerable talent, Hunter quickly became snooker's pin-up for the new millennium.
No wonder then, that he was christened 'The Snooker World's Beckham'.
In that year, a year that should have marked the height of his career, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo cancer therapy.
Multiple stories from across the professional tour speak of the man's extraordinary dedication to fulfill commitments to exhibitions, events and press interviews, all while going through treatment.
Despite difficult symptoms, Hunter continued to compete through the illness and received a standing ovation at The famous Sheffield venue when he played at the World Championships that year.
When he died in October 2006, snooker's family-like circuit lost one of its best-loved members.
"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 palaces and castles but in local sports centers across the UK.
The charity in his name, set up before his death, would provide accessible training to children all over the country.
The program was so successful that, according to reports, anti-social behavior in some areas fell sharply.
"The goal was for a scheme to help offer a constructive activity," one official said.
The Foundation helped lay the groundwork for a huge 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 chairman in the sport stated.
Classic footage of their son's matches on YouTube help his parents stay "connected to him".
"I can access it and I can watch Paul whenever I wish," Kristina says. "It's a comfort!"
"We like to reminisce about Paul," she continues. "At first it was sad, but I'd rather somebody talk than him not be spoken of."
While he never won the World Championship, the widespread belief that Hunter would have secured snooker's top honor is etched into the sport's history.
The Masters, the competition with which he is forever linked, commences later this month. The winner will lift the memorial cup.
But for all his achievements, a generation after his death it is Paul Hunter's spirit, as much his dazzling snooker ability, that will ensure he is never forgotten.
Elara is a seasoned strategist with over a decade of experience in corporate leadership and military tactics.