BARELY human sounds can be heard coming from London. And I’m not talking about the braying during Prime Minister’s Question Time.

No, these guttural utterances are emanating from Wimbledon where the racket of grunts, some say, is getting ever more disturbing.

Tennis fair play purists are huffing and puffing in protest at the big noises coming from some big noises on court. But I’m not. I’m all for it.

What I know about tennis could be written on a strawberry and, to me, watching the sport on telly used to be about as exciting as spending three hours observing a physio- therapy neck-exercise class. In slow motion.

But then along came the likes of Nastase and McEnroe with their tantrums and suddenly the game became compelling viewing, even to a tennis ignoramus like me.

And now it’s the turn of the magnificent squealers and grunters. In recent years the sport’s aficionados have been snorting in exasperation at certain players’ grunting. But what’s the problem? Mind games are commonplace in all professional sport today. It may be off-putting but so what? Deal with it.

Today, Monica Seles’s on-court grunts have been trumped by the weird wails and squeals of 16-year-old Michelle Larcher de Brito.

And more power to her mighty lungs, I say. The centre court may have been given a retractable roof but don’t put a lid on the entertainment for all the tennis oafs like me.

The International Tennis Federation is discussing adding a noise hindrance clause to its code of conduct to stop the grunting.

I’ve got one thing to say to them. “Huh!”