Grumpy Old Man - who is raising such a racquet in the middle of the night

There they were, the tell-tale sounds of distress with a woman screaming in the distance, along with other yelling and grunting.

Strewth I thought, as I reached for the phone to call police to attend what appeared to be a domestic incident happening nearby.

But then I stopped. Do police need to be involved? Could there be a simple solution? Shouldn't I just track down the source and see if there is any help I can offer?

Lucky I did, because the source of the noise was a bit closer to home than I expected.

I had left the television on, and the women's tennis was playing.

At least I think it was a tennis game, but maybe it was a screaming competition and the contestants were using balls and racquets to help bring out their wildest and most guttural sounds.

I couldn't work it out at first, until I remembered an old mantra from a different sporting code, which urged players to "be the ball".

Maybe to get to the top in the world of women's tennis you need to take that teaching and make it a key part of your life.

And with each ground stroke, lob, volley or smash, the player felt the pain of the ball being whacked by a racquet, and responded accordingly.

And the harder they hit the ball, the louder they screamed as their own pain intensified.

The baseline rallies turned into wars of attrition, with each player battling the excruciating feelings they were inflicting on themselves, until it all became too much and they allowed the ball to go past or simply slapped it into the net.

It's no wonder they needed to take a break after each rally and wipe themselves down with a towel.

I never realised tennis, and women's tennis in particular, was such a tough sport.