To his surprise, Tycho didn’t just set him up to start playing but actually gave him a full explanation of the game, or at least what sounded like a full explanation. He had been expecting to have to figure it out as he went; most of the time when he played games at home, it was either with his cousin/uncle Kašpar, who was not known for being able to teach people anything that wasn’t Quidditch-related, or his sister Nadia, who was very competitive and would never allow time for a learning round even when they were faced with a game neither had played before. So it was nice to be catered to in this way.
Involuntarily tugging on his shirt collar to make sure it was lying flat over the neckline of his robes, Dmitry nodded along as he surveyed the fuse-ball table. With the rows of men and green painted grass it was obviously a sports field. Tycho’s description of fuse-ball being like soccer confirmed this - he knew that soccer was the American version of football. But then he started demonstrating how you actually played it, and the idea that he had to spin little knobs to make the plastic men move was so strange Dmitry couldn’t hold back a snicker.
“Da, this makes sense,” he nodded again, grinning, and copied Tycho’s position standing on the other side of the fuse-ball table. “Where does the ball start? There?” he asked, pointing to the centre of the table, before noticing a tunnel/slide/thing on the side. “Ah, it rolls here?” A moving start made more sense to him - that was how it worked in Quidditch, too, the balls didn’t just sit there waiting. Dmitry spun one of the knobs experimentally and watched the entire line of men spin around. “It is very simple. There is no way even to move just one at a time? Why would no one think of this?” Surely there were ways to do that mechanically, even without magic; whoever the Muggle was that invented this game must have been not very smart, or on a small budget, or both.