I’ve always had a soft spot for digital golf. Seriously, I even have a Golden Tee arcade setup right in my living room. Back in my teen years, EA’s Tiger Woods games were my go-to escape; whenever I needed a break, they were there for me. Nowadays, my real golf clubs are gathering dust in the garage, thanks to my packed schedule. Yet, the itch to play stays with me, and digital golf seems like the perfect way to scratch it.
With a bit of free time emerging in my gaming calendar, I decided to dive into PGA Tour 2K25. I remember enjoying 2K’s initial foray into golf simulations, so I thought, why not give it another shot and see how it stacks up against EA’s offerings? I eagerly booted up Steam and didn’t hesitate to splurge on the Premium Edition for early access. At the start, I was absolutely buzzing.
Reflecting on the 2021 version, the latest edition from 2K stands out with its significant polish. The game feels smoother, looks cleaner, and provides a more intuitive interface. I especially appreciate the assist system; it cleverly marries the detailed simulation aspect with the quick, enjoyable arcade style, reminiscent of racing games like Forza Motorsport.
Engaging in an arcade-style game, which harks back to the cherished golden days of EA’s PS2 Tiger Woods games, ensures your custom golfer earns all the experience points possible from each round. However, dialing down certain features ramps up the experience you rack up beyond this base amount.
It’s a comparison that makes sense. Much like in Forza, where I turn off the racing line for an EXP boost, in this game, I disable crosswind aids and other assists that make the game a bit more forgiving of my mistakes, especially when driving. But when I’m on the putting green, I crank up the assists – putting has never been my strong suit.
Once I found the right balance with my settings, I managed to increase my EXP gain to 120% of the standard rate. Those with more expertise and skill than I possess will definitely see an even higher return on their efforts.
Experience points are crucial, unlocking rewards, progressing your player, and accumulating the necessary currency for new gear. Yet, the game’s relaxed nature with a reasonable number of assists is perfect for me. I have the option to tweak settings for a stiffer challenge whenever I crave it.
What I love about career mode is that it doesn’t force you to play every hole by default. The game might pick a handful for you to manually play, with AI handling the rest. It’s a weight off, but purists can play each hole with just a quick trip to the settings. Off the course, you’ll find training mini-games, press conferences, and player rivalries to keep things fresh.
This blend of elements is what drew me to the older golf games. They manage to be both sports simulations and a good time. Golf is an accessible sport in real life – you can borrow or buy some inexpensive clubs and hit the course with friends. In-game, I enjoy simulating a professional career and engaging in relaxing play without the real-world pressure that stresses me out.
However, there’s an unsavory twist to what seems like a promising game. Despite its balanced mix of fun for casual and hardcore players alike, there’s a darker side to PGA Tour 2K25 that has become more noticeable since the first update.
Improving your character in the game requires in-game currency, which you earn by playing or, unsurprisingly, by purchasing it. Want those shiny new clubs? That’s going to cost some virtual currency (VC). New clothes? VC. Boost your character’s golfing stats? Fork over the VC!
While this isn’t a new concept in gaming, it feels like just the beginning of a slippery slope. Many games utilize currency systems for progression, akin to gaining experience points in RPGs. But selling this virtual currency for real-world cash feels wrong, a bit like cutting corners. The fans who splash out for early access were greeted with one earning rate for VC, only for it to be slashed post-launch with little fanfare.
Outraged fans on Reddit have crunched the numbers, pointing out that elevating your player to level 99 now requires a staggering commitment. What once took 92 hours now demands around 214 hours. The VC costs for essential items have soared, sometimes spiking by 60%. The initial pace wasn’t exactly lightning-fast, but it seems 2K decided it wasn’t slow enough to encourage additional spending. By tweaking the economy for more profit, like Augustus diving into Wonka’s chocolate river, they’ve since dashed these hopes post-launch.
Though I wasn’t deeply embedded in the PGA 2K community, even I noticed the stark difference in my VC earnings before and after this unannounced change. This led me to Reddit, exposing the grim reality. Steam reviews are tearing into the game’s direction. Words like “greedy” surface frequently, though I think “predatory” might be more apt. To me, it’s quite simply “disgusting.” There are other choice words I might have for 2K, but I’ll leave those to your creative thinking.
Despite initially being thrilled with PGA Tour 2K25, this revelation drained much of my enthusiasm. Any previous annoyances, like slow menus and intrusive pop-ups, now pale next to this blatant cash grab masquerading as a character progression system. It resembles the kind of grind found in free-to-play mobile games, where progress hinges on shelling out countless hours or, predictably, more cash. When playing becomes such a slow slog – clearly driven by microtransactions – my interest begins to wane.
Frankly, this sort of strategy might be understandable in a free-to-play game, but not here. Some players have shelled out over a hundred pounds for this experience. Even the standard edition isn’t cheap. It’s downright outrageous and detracts from what could have been an exquisite golf game – possibly the best in years. Much like missing an easy putt after a perfect drive, 2K has crafted something special only to spoil it at the finish line. What a disappointment.