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When they closed up Wrigley Field last autumn, they did so with a little more glumness than usual. The Chicago Cubs had advanced to within five outs of making their first trip to the World Series in 58 years, only to succumb to a dazzling defeat.

Walking out of the ballpark and straight into the cold months, Cubs fans had been let down once again.

But winter is done now, and spring promises so much. It is the season of renewal and there is no better stage for the awakening than Wrigley's Opening Day, a grand April rite that will have, on Monday, nearly 40,000 people celebrating that yearly new beginning.

There is no good way to lose, but last year's defeat was fantastically galling. The team's supporters, the very best of rooters, were let down by one of their own. With the Cubs leading the Florida Marlins 3-0 in game six of the National League Championship Series at Wrigley Field, a fly ball hit by Marlin infielder Luis Castillo drifted toward the front-row seat of young Cub fan Steve Bartman.

Bartman reached for the ball, infamously deflecting it out of the reach of Chicago outfielder Moises Alou. Castillo then walked, triggering an eight-run rally by the Marlins, who avoided elimination, won the NLCS the following night, and went on to win the World Series.

Over the course of the winter, the demon baseball that drifted into the stands was eventually sold, for $113,824 (U.S.), to a bidder and publicly demolished. Yet curses remain.

"Because the goat smells." Cub fan and tavern owner William Sianis had demanded an explanation as to why his prized pet had been barred from the ballpark and he got it, straight from club owner William Wrigley. The date was Oct. 6, 1945, and at the time the Cubs were leading the Detroit Tigers, two games to one, in that year's World Series.

Outraged -- the goat, Murphy, did have its own ticket for heaven's sake -- Sianis did what any one of us would have done under the same circumstance, marching straight out in front of the stadium to place on it a curse -- an impromptu incantation, in a thick Greek accent, meant to assure that Wrigley Field would never again hold another World Series.

The "Billy Goat Curse" was born, the Tigers won the World Series, and the Cubs have never been back.

Despite a record of futility unmatched in professional sports, and a strict prejudice against the admittance of barnyard animals, Wrigley Field prevails, packing in not only Cub supporters, but ball fans from far and wide. They travel to see one of the game's greatest old parks, sure, but there is more to the attraction than the stadium itself. The surrounding cluster of sports-related shops, restaurants and bars completes the baseball experience.

Of course, no day at Wrigley is richer than Opening Day, and though he is no Cub fan, one Toronto writer will be there once more.

A bus drops him off right at the park, although he could have just as easily walked from the hotel or taken the "El," as locals call the elevated-train network that threads the city.

Known as the "Friendly Confines" and tucked into a neighbourhood of vintage brownstones on the city's north side, Wrigley is accessible.

An attractive swirl of bustle and commotion, the corner where the park sits is an urban carnival. Ticket scalpers and vendors mix with the throng. Near the ticket windows, a Dixieland jazz quintet plays.

A mammoth red sign near the front gates and ticket windows welcomes the visitor inside, but he resists. All of Wrigleyville (the area surrounding the park) should be experienced.

He starts at Sluggers, kitty-corner from the park, where batting cages on the bar's second floor let him take a few cuts of his own. Unable to wait until the game starts for a "Wrigley Dog," he makes his way to the Cubby Bear, just outside the park's main entrance, where they serve the same plump ballpark frank as the Wrigley vendors.

During pre-game batting practice, he lingers outside the park, beyond the left-field wall, where well-struck baseballs bounce onto Waveland Avenue, sending souvenir hunters scrambling for a prize. Perhaps he heads to Sports World to browse through vintage memorabilia.

For a sturdier piece of Cub history, he may venture a few blocks to the Stadium Seat Store, where amiable proprietor Fred Jacobs sells pairs of old Wrigley box seats for $425.

The weather's fair and there's 40 minutes until the first pitch -- time enough for a drink at the outdoor patio of Murphy's Bleachers, located a relay throw away from the park's outfield bleacher entrance.

Those bleachers. It was at Wrigley that Babe Ruth supposedly called his shot, pointing to the outfield stands in Game 3 of the 1932 World Series before redirecting a pitch from Chicago's Charlie Root for a home run.

Much of the Cub's charm derives from nostalgia and a storied past. Our visitor gets more than a whiff of it once inside the stadium. The things he has seen countless times on television over the years now stand in front of him -- the ivy on the brick outfield walls, the green hand-operated scoreboard in centre field, and the roof-toppers across the street, padding the unofficial attendance.

Before the game begins, he heads over to Section 208, where a lifetime Cub supporter sits.

The fan is wearing a Cubs team jersey -- No. 54, for the year he was born -- and he is here every Wednesday and Friday when the team is in town. He loves bringing newcomers to the ballpark, explaining the various nuances and historical oddities that this field alone holds.

Opened in 1914, there was no public address system until 1932. Before that, an announcer used a megaphone and walked from bullpen to bullpen to deliver the batting orders to the crowd.

The scoreboard and bleachers (home of the original "Bleacher Bums") were built in 1937. Games at Wrigley were played in daylight until 1988, when, after decades of resistance, lights were installed. There are still more day games here than any other ballpark.

The game begins when fan favourite and slugger Sammy Sosa charges out to his right field post in the top of the first inning, and ends nine innings or so later when a flag is raised above the scoreboard -- a pennant with a blue "W" indicates a victory; a blue one with a white "L," a loss.

In between, fans are treated during the seventh-inning stretch to a sing-along rendition of Take Me Out to the Ballgame, led by a celebrity of some sort, often a former player.

There are many further quirks and rituals, but to say that Wrigley Field is one of kind is to say hardly anything at all. (Toronto's Exhibition Stadium was rather matchless itself, but not in a good way.)

So, in a capsule, it should be said that Wrigley is many things: It is generous, it is old but tended; it is forgiving, it is Americana on the green. And, come Monday, it is open.

IF YOU GO

TICKETS AND TOURS

The Cubs' improved play has increased demand. Tickets to night and weekend games are particularly difficult to acquire, as are ducats to matches against the cross-town Chicago White Sox or the rival St. Louis Cardinals. For seats, visit cubs.com or call (773) 404-2827. Tours of Wrigley Field: 12 tours will be conducted this season, on weekends, between May 29 and Sept. 25. The 90-minute visits include stops at the Cubs' and visitor's clubhouse, dugouts, mezzanine suites, press box and playing field. For tickets, which cost $15 (U.S.), call (773) 404-2827.

WHERE TO STAY

The three boutique hotels of the Neighbourhood Inns of Chicago are convenient for visits to Wrigley Field. All sit in residential environs, and vary in décor themes: The Majestic Hotel (1-800-727-5108); City Suites Hotel (1-800-248-9108): and the Willows Hotel (1-800-787-3108). Rates range between $139 to $179.

WRIGLEYVILLE

Sluggers: 3540 N. Clark St.; (773) 248-0055. A sports bar and grill.

Cubby Bear: 1059 W. Addison St.; (773) 327-1662; cubbybear.com. A popular Cubs sports bar.

Murphy's Bleachers: 3655 N. Sheffield; (773) 281-5356. A rowdy Cubs institution.

Sports World: 1027 W. Addison St.; (773) 472-7701. Sells memorabilia.

Stadium Seat Store: 810 West Irving Park Rd., (773) 404-7975. Sells pieces of Wrigley.

FARTHER AFIELD

Sharing the city's baseball affections are the White Sox, an American League team based at U.S. Cellular Field. This modern facility lacks Wrigley's charm, but is a fine, family-friendly park. For more information, visit http://www.chisox.com.