I’VE always loved Punchestown in the spring, but like Romeo’s passion for Juliet, ours was a forbidden love.

It wasn’t my parents who put the kybosh on the budding romance - my late father was more than happy to indulge my latent interest in horse racing, as it gave him an audience for stories about the greats of yesteryear, a companion for an afternoon in front of the television watching the old ITV7, and ideally someone who could flick between that and the BBC in the days when the sport was a TV staple.