The first Saturday of April is normally my favourite racing day of the year.

It was the Grand National which made me fall for the sport. My Grandmother was not a gambler, but once a year she would indulge, and could see it fascinated me.

I'll miss it today. Big time.

My grandmother had an interesting betting tactic I still broadly follow with a bit more detail.

She was born in Sligo, so she always liked to back the Irish horses. Not a bad strategy in itself - they tend to produce better chasers statistically, even now.

Secondly, she knew there was something about the weights she had to worry about. Too right!

Lastly, she knew trainer form mattered a lot. She didn't know how to spot this, but liked "the green and yellow hoops" - close enough, close enough...

As a kid, we would watch together. She could see I loved it. As an adult I would phone her each Grand National day and we would compare selections and share it. It was rare she wasn't onto a good thing in the places, at least. I miss her on National day more than most.

I April 2017 I was very unwell. For unknown reasons I could barely walk, and had a very sore back. I was sleeping on the sofa.

I followed her "method" and picked out her likely selections. Her second husband - the only grandfather I knew - was called Arthur.

One For Arthur duly won, and I spent the evening catching myself missing her even more.

That night I was hospitalised. It was 6 weeks before I could leave hospital in a wheelchair following multiple MRIs, neurosurgery and intensive physio and occupational therapy.

So now more then ever, Grand National Day sits heavy in my mind, filled with memories and deep parts of my life.

I'll enjoy the virtual race for what it is, but next year I think I'll be making the trip and paying homage at Aintreee for the 4th time in my life.