🔗 Share this article 'Paul was fun': Remembering the sport's lost great two decades on. Paul Hunter secured The Masters three times during a brief yet brilliant career. Everything the young snooker player ever wanted to do was compete on the baize. A sporting bug, developed at the tender age of three with the help of a small snooker set on his family's living room table in the city of Leeds, would result in a pro playing days that saw him secure half a dozen major wins in a six-year span. Now marks two decades since the beloved Hunter died from cancer, just days before to his 28th birthday. But in spite of the tragic departure of a phenomenal skill that rose above the pastime he cherished, his enduring mark on the game and those who followed his career endure as vibrant now. 'His passion was clear': The Formative Years "We'd never have known in a billion years our son would become a professional snooker player," his mother says. "Yet he just was passionate about it." His dad recalls how his son "showed no interest in anything else" other than snooker as a young boy. "He was relentless," he notes. "He competed every night after school." A prodigy: Hunter was familiar with snooker from the age of three. After repeatedly pleading with his dad to take him to a nearby hall to play on regulation tables at the age of eight, the budding player made the leap from home play with remarkable ease. His mercurial talent would be developed by the former world title holder Joe Johnson, from nearby Bradford, at a now former establishment in the area of Yeadon. Rapid Rise: From Teenager to Champion With his parents' pleas to do his homework often being ignored as practice took priority, his parents took the "risk" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully dedicate himself to carving out a career in the game. It was a resounding success. Within a short period, their young son had won his first ranking title, the Welsh Open of 1998. Considered one of snooker's hardest tournaments to win because of the presence of exclusively the best, Hunter won a trio of times, in the early 2000s. 'Paul was fun': The Man Behind the Cue But for all his success on the table, away from the game Hunter's down-to-earth charisma never left him. "His demeanor was excellent did Paul," Alan says. "He connected with everybody." "Upon meeting him you'd like him," Kristina adds. "Paul was fun. He'd make you comfortable." Hunter's partner Lindsey, with whom he had a child, describes him as an "incredible, lively, and kind spirit" who was "humorous, caring" and "typically the final guest at the party". With his effortless appeal, boyish good looks 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'. A Brave Battle: His Final Years In 2005, a year that should have signaled the peak of his powers, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo cancer therapy. Multiple anecdotes from across the professional tour highlight the man's extraordinary willingness to keep promises to public appearances and promotional work, all while undergoing treatment. Despite harsh reactions, Hunter played on through the illness and received a rapturous applause at The famous Sheffield venue when he played at the World Championships that year. When he passed away in the mid-2000s, snooker's family-like circuit lost one of its cherished personalities. "The pain is immense," Kristina says. "No parent should experience any mum and dad to suffer such a loss." An Enduring Legacy: Giving Back Hunter's true contribution 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 free snooker sessions to children all over the country. The scheme was so successful that, according to reports, local youth crime rates in some areas fell sharply. "The idea was for a program to help offer a constructive activity," one coach said. The Foundation helped lay the groundwork for a huge coaching programme, which has provided 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. Always Remembered: 20 Years Later Historic matches of their son's matches via the internet help his parents stay "in touch with his memory". "I can bring it up and I can watch Paul anytime," Kristina says. "It's a comfort!" "We like to reminisce about Paul," she continues. "Before it would be tears, but I'd rather somebody remember him than him not be mentioned at all." Although he never won the World Championship, the common opinion that Hunter would have secured snooker's top honor is ingrained in the sport's legend. The Masters, the competition with which he is forever linked, begins later this month. The winner will lift the trophy named in his honor. But for all his achievements, a generation after his death it is Paul Hunter's spirit, as much his spectacular skill with a cue, that will ensure he is always remembered.
Paul Hunter secured The Masters three times during a brief yet brilliant career. Everything the young snooker player ever wanted to do was compete on the baize. A sporting bug, developed at the tender age of three with the help of a small snooker set on his family's living room table in the city of Leeds, would result in a pro playing days that saw him secure half a dozen major wins in a six-year span. Now marks two decades since the beloved Hunter died from cancer, just days before to his 28th birthday. But in spite of the tragic departure of a phenomenal skill that rose above the pastime he cherished, his enduring mark on the game and those who followed his career endure as vibrant now. 'His passion was clear': The Formative Years "We'd never have known in a billion years our son would become a professional snooker player," his mother says. "Yet he just was passionate about it." His dad recalls how his son "showed no interest in anything else" other than snooker as a young boy. "He was relentless," he notes. "He competed every night after school." A prodigy: Hunter was familiar with snooker from the age of three. After repeatedly pleading with his dad to take him to a nearby hall to play on regulation tables at the age of eight, the budding player made the leap from home play with remarkable ease. His mercurial talent would be developed by the former world title holder Joe Johnson, from nearby Bradford, at a now former establishment in the area of Yeadon. Rapid Rise: From Teenager to Champion With his parents' pleas to do his homework often being ignored as practice took priority, his parents took the "risk" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully dedicate himself to carving out a career in the game. It was a resounding success. Within a short period, their young son had won his first ranking title, the Welsh Open of 1998. Considered one of snooker's hardest tournaments to win because of the presence of exclusively the best, Hunter won a trio of times, in the early 2000s. 'Paul was fun': The Man Behind the Cue But for all his success on the table, away from the game Hunter's down-to-earth charisma never left him. "His demeanor was excellent did Paul," Alan says. "He connected with everybody." "Upon meeting him you'd like him," Kristina adds. "Paul was fun. He'd make you comfortable." Hunter's partner Lindsey, with whom he had a child, describes him as an "incredible, lively, and kind spirit" who was "humorous, caring" and "typically the final guest at the party". With his effortless appeal, boyish good looks 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'. A Brave Battle: His Final Years In 2005, a year that should have signaled the peak of his powers, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo cancer therapy. Multiple anecdotes from across the professional tour highlight the man's extraordinary willingness to keep promises to public appearances and promotional work, all while undergoing treatment. Despite harsh reactions, Hunter played on through the illness and received a rapturous applause at The famous Sheffield venue when he played at the World Championships that year. When he passed away in the mid-2000s, snooker's family-like circuit lost one of its cherished personalities. "The pain is immense," Kristina says. "No parent should experience any mum and dad to suffer such a loss." An Enduring Legacy: Giving Back Hunter's true contribution 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 free snooker sessions to children all over the country. The scheme was so successful that, according to reports, local youth crime rates in some areas fell sharply. "The idea was for a program to help offer a constructive activity," one coach said. The Foundation helped lay the groundwork for a huge coaching programme, which has provided 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. Always Remembered: 20 Years Later Historic matches of their son's matches via the internet help his parents stay "in touch with his memory". "I can bring it up and I can watch Paul anytime," Kristina says. "It's a comfort!" "We like to reminisce about Paul," she continues. "Before it would be tears, but I'd rather somebody remember him than him not be mentioned at all." Although he never won the World Championship, the common opinion that Hunter would have secured snooker's top honor is ingrained in the sport's legend. The Masters, the competition with which he is forever linked, begins later this month. The winner will lift the trophy named in his honor. But for all his achievements, a generation after his death it is Paul Hunter's spirit, as much his spectacular skill with a cue, that will ensure he is always remembered.