Among those Devastated Debris of an Residential Building, I Found a Book I’d Rendered
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- By Matthew Mcguire
- 11 May 2026
Everything the Leeds-born talent always wished to do was practice the game.
A competitive passion, sparked at the tender age of three with the help of a tiny snooker set on his parents' coffee table in Leeds, would culminate in a professional career that saw him secure half a dozen major wins in six years.
This year marks two decades since the beloved Hunter succumbed to cancer, mere days prior to his birthday marking 28 years.
But notwithstanding the loss of a phenomenal skill that went beyond the game he loved, his influence and memory on the game and those who knew him endure as powerful today.
"We could not have predicted in a lifetime our son would become a professional snooker player," his mother states.
"Yet he just loved it."
Hunter's father remembers how his son "showed no interest in anything else" except for snooker as a youth.
"He never stopped," he says. "He competed every night after school."
After repeatedly pleading with his dad to take him to a local club to play on full-size tables at the age of eight, the aspiring talent made the leap from table top snooker with remarkable ease.
His raw skill would be coached by the former world title holder Joe Johnson, from the adjacent city, at a now closed venue in the north Leeds suburb of Yeadon.
With his mother and father's requests to do his homework often being ignored as the game dominated, his parents took the "chance" of taking Hunter out of school at the mid-teens to fully dedicate himself to building a career in the game.
It proved a masterstroke. Within five years, their adolescent had won his initial major win, the 1998 Welsh Open.
Considered one of snooker's toughest events to win because of the involvement of exclusively the best, Hunter won a trio of times, in consecutive years.
But for all his triumphs in the sport, away from the game Hunter's humble charm never deserted him.
"He had a great temperament did Paul," Alan says. "He connected with everybody."
"Upon meeting him you'd take to him," Kristina states. "He was enjoyable. He'd make you relaxed."
Hunter's widow Lindsey, with whom he had daughter Evie, describes him as an "amazing, young cheeky beautiful soul" who was "humorous, caring" and "always the last to leave the party".
With his natural likability, boyish good looks and candid way with the press, not to mention his considerable talent, Hunter quickly became snooker's pin-up for the new 21st Century.
No wonder then, that he was nicknamed 'A Sporting Icon'.
In 2005, a year that should have signaled the height of his career, Hunter was diagnosed with cancer and would later undergo aggressive treatment.
Multiple accounts from across the professional tour highlight the man's extraordinary willingness to keep promises to exhibitions, events and press interviews, all while enduring treatment.
Despite difficult symptoms, Hunter continued to compete through the illness and received a tumultuous reception at The famous Sheffield venue when he competed in the World Championships that year.
When he passed away in October 2006, snooker's tight community lost one of its cherished personalities.
"The pain is immense," Kristina says. "It is a terrible thing for any mum and dad to go through that pain."
Hunter's true contribution would be felt not in royal circles but in community venues 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, local youth crime rates in some areas fell sharply.
"The idea was for a program to help offer a constructive activity," one official said.
The Foundation helped pave the way for a major coaching programme, which has opened up 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 senior official in the sport stated.
Classic footage of their son's matches online help his parents stay "in touch with his memory".
"I can access it and I can watch Paul anytime," Kristina says. "It's wonderful!"
"We don't mind talking about Paul," she concludes. "At first it was sad, but I'd rather somebody remember him than him not be spoken of."
Even though he never won the World Championship, the common opinion that Hunter would have eventually won snooker's ultimate trophy is a part of the sport's legend.
The Masters, the competition with which he is forever linked, commences later this month. The winner will lift the trophy named in his honor.
But for all his successes, 20 years after his death it is Paul Hunter's character, as much his brilliant talent on the table, that will ensure he is never forgotten.
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