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Ron doesn't understand football. Prior to his first year at Hogwarts, he hadn't even known the weird Muggle sport existed. To him, it seems silly and a bit boring. What's the point of a sport that isn't even played on broomsticks? For the life of him, Ron can't understand why anyone would want to watch a bunch of blokes run around, chasing after a ball they can't even touch with their hands.
And yet, even so, he's in the stands, holding Dean's hand, watching a West Ham match. Ron wonders how his boyfriend could find football so exciting when he knows Quidditch exists, but, somehow, Dean's grinning from ear to ear, cheering as one of the players blocks a goal.
It's not that impressive. Ron could do that, several feet in the air, balanced on a broomstick.
Still, he doesn't say anything. These are the moments where Dean smiles the brightest, where his excitement is so great, Ron can practically taste it.
Three years ago, when the two of them came together after the trauma of the war, they were both broken. Ron only knows bits and pieces of what happened during Dean's time on the run, but he knows they're both still plagued by nightmares. He had made it his mission early on to do everything possible to make sure Dean smiles.
So maybe he doesn't know what's going on more often than not. Maybe he accidentally cheers for the wrong team from time to time because he can barely remember which team wears which kit (much to Dean's embarrassment), but it doesn't matter.
Ron sees the way Dean smiles as he jumps up and down, shouting and clapping his hands together like a madman.
Ron doesn't understand football. If he's honest, he probably never will. Still, that's okay. All that matters is that Dean is happy.