PGA Tour 2K25: A Stellar Golf Game Marred by Unfair Tactics and Greedy Practices

If you’re anything like me, there’s nothing quite like a round of virtual golf to unwind. Whether it’s playing on my beloved Golden Tee arcade machine at home or reminiscing about the comfort I found in EA’s Tiger Woods series as a teenager, digital golf holds a special place in my heart. With a neglected set of golf clubs in the garage and a packed schedule that rarely allows for actual course time, finding a good golf game seems like the perfect way to fill that void.

When I noticed that I had some free space in my gaming line-up, the freshly launched PGA Tour 2K25 caught my eye. I had fond memories of 2K’s initial venture into golf simulations, so I decided it was time to see how they’ve evolved over the years. Feeling optimistic, I jumped on Steam and splurged on the Premium Edition for early access. From the get-go, I was buzzing with excitement.

Thinking back to my somewhat fuzzy recollections of the 2021 iteration, it’s clear PGA 2K25 has seen substantial improvement. The game now boasts a refined, slicker interface that’s more intuitive and user-friendly. I’m especially impressed with the assist system; it’s reminiscent of what racing games like Forza Motorsport offer, striking a balance between a detailed simulation experience and engaging, rapid-fire arcade-style play.

In essence, this game gives you a chance to play a style akin to the PS2-era Tiger Woods classics. Dive into a custom career mode and earn experience for every round of golf. The real kicker? The fewer assists you rely on, the more EXP you rack up. It’s much like turning off the racing line in Forza for an EXP boost. Confident in my driving skills, I disable assists for crosswinds to make the gameplay more challenging. But when I’m putting? You bet I’m keeping those assists on.

Once I fine-tuned my settings, I was set on a path to earn 120% of the standard EXP. Of course, seasoned players can push this even further. 

Gaining EXP is crucial as it’s your ticket to unlocking rewards, leveling up, and acquiring gear. I love how the game maintains its breezy feel with a sensible number of assists while still offering the option to crank up realism for those seeking a tougher challenge.

What complements this beautifully is the career mode, which doesn’t oblige you to play every hole in a round. By default, you might play four or five holes while the AI takes over the rest. It’s a great way to relieve pressure. But for the purists who want to play each shot, adjusting the settings is just a quick menu flick. Besides the course action, there are training mini-games and dynamic press conferences that keep things lively.

These elements connect back to what I cherished about early golf games. They’re not just sports simulations; they’re fun. While you might not spend much on real-life golf, video game golf lets you play at an elevated level, simulating a career and enjoying the leisurely aspects of the game without real-life frustrations—which, trust me, can get quite stressful!

However, there’s a catch. Despite the game’s appealing mix of casual and hardcore golf, there’s an unpleasant undercurrent in PGA 2K25. This was highlighted with the game’s first update, which quietly slipped in some changes.

This evolution of your custom player, aka ‘myPLAYER,’ is closely tied to a currency that’s earned in-game or—surprise, surprise—purchased with actual money. Want new clubs or clothes? You’ll need VC (Virtual Currency). Want to level up your golfer’s skills? Fork over more VC!

This isn’t unheard of, sure. Many games let you earn and then spend currency for progression. Experience points in RPGs serve a similar purpose. Selling this currency for real money does feel a tad cheeky, but 2K? They’ve taken it a step further.

During the game’s early access phase, when die-hard fans first got their hands on it, the amount of VC you could earn seemed fair. However, following the official release, a subtle update adjusted the economy, dialing down the VC earning rate significantly.

Understandably, the community isn’t pleased. Reddit users have analyzed these changes, noting that reaching level 99 with your player now takes an arduous 214 hours compared to the previous 92. VC costs for leveling up and purchasing essential tools necessary for progression have skyrocketed by up to 60%. Originally, progression felt slow, but 2K evidently decided it wasn’t slow enough to promote more spending. Ready for change from the outset, they rushed in like Augustus Gloop diving into a chocolate river.

Though I wasn’t deeply entrenched in the PGA 2K community, even as a casual player, the shift in earnings was noticeable. Reddit revealed the grim reality, and now Steam reviews paint a scathing picture, often dubbing the system “greedy” and “predatory.” And let’s not mince words—it’s disgusting. I could come up with more fitting terms for the team behind these decisions, but they might be a bit too colorful for print.

Initially, PGA Tour 2K25 had me thrilled, but this revelation has really dampened my enthusiasm. Any minor annoyances I had before—like slow menus and their over-the-top transitions—now pale in comparison to the blatant cash grab masquerading as progression, something more suited to a free-to-play mobile game rather than a premium purchase. This system ties inextricably with online competition, backed by either a grinding journey spanning hundreds of hours or forking out for some microtransactions. Now that progression feels intentionally elongated and seemingly designed to extract more money, I find myself emotionally checking out.

Let’s be blunt: this kind of nonsense is barely tolerable in a free-to-play gacha game. But this isn’t that. People have shelled out over a hundred pounds for this experience; even the standard edition comes at a hefty sixty quid. It’s a bad joke that soils what could’ve been a delightful game—the best golf experience I’ve had in a decade. Like missing that fourth consecutive putt for a double bogey after hitting the green just right, 2K crafted something incredible and then undercut it so spectacularly. It’s a real shame.