PGA Tour 2K25: A Decade’s Best Golf Game Marred by Underhanded Tactics and Greedy Practices

I truly enjoy a round of virtual golf. Seriously, I’m a fan—there’s a Golden Tee arcade game parked right in my living room. EA’s Tiger Woods video games were my go-to for relaxation back when I was a teenager. Now, as an adult with a set of real golf clubs gathering dust in the garage (life’s hustle keeps me from hitting the actual greens often), I see the appeal of a solid golf game filling that void in my downtime.

Given the gap in my current gaming lineup, the recent drop of PGA Tour 2K25 caught my eye. I’d been fairly impressed with 2K’s initial venture into golf simulations, so I decided to go that route instead of EA’s alternative. Eager to see what improvements had been made over the years, I jumped on Steam, feeling optimistic, and went all in on the Premium Edition for early access. Initially, I couldn’t have been more pleased.

My memories of the 2021 version might be a little hazy, but there’s no denying that 2K25 has seen some serious polishing. It’s smoother, more intuitive, and just generally more accessible. The assists system particularly caught my attention, reminding me of the racing assists found in games like Forza Motorsport. It’s a clever way to balance an authentic simulation with fast-paced arcade fun.

In essence, playing a breezier, arcade-style game reminiscent of those beloved EA Tiger Woods games from the PS2 era allows your custom career golfer to earn full experience from every round. But, the more assists you choose to disable, the more XP you can rack up beyond the baseline.

This kind of thinking aligns well with racing games. In Forza, I don’t require the racing line, so switching it off earns me a little bonus XP. I feel fairly confident in my driving abilities, so I disable assists that help with crosswinds and make the game more forgiving. But when it comes to putting, my skills are lacking, so I keep all those helpful tools on the green.

With my settings adjusted, I manage to secure 120% of the standard EXP gain. Of course, those with greater prowess than me can earn even more.

Earning EXP is crucial as it unlocks rewards, levels up your golfer, and provides the currency needed for new equipment. Yet, I find the game’s breezy nature with just the right amount of assists quite appealing, all while knowing I can opt for a harsher reality check if I want.

This conveniently aligns with the career mode’s setting—by default, you’re not required to play every single hole. Instead, perhaps four or five holes might call for your attention while AI handles the rest. It’s a relief, though you can certainly choose to tackle every hole manually if that’s your preference. Beyond the greens, you’ve got training mini-games, press conferences, rivalries, and the like to keep you busy.

It brings me back to what I appreciated about those older golf games—they’re sports sims that also manage to be enjoyable. Golf is pretty accessible; you don’t need much to get started with some friends. In video games, the beauty of golf lies in playing at that higher level, simulating a career, and enjoying it more leisurely than the often stressful real-life counterpart, at least for me.

But there’s a snag. Despite the blend of casual and hardcore modes, PGA 2K25 hides a rather bitter pill—one revealed in its initial update.

Here’s the kicker: developing your ‘myPLAYER,’ that custom golfing pro, requires in-game currency, which you can accumulate by playing… or by opening your wallet. Need new clubs? That’s VC. Want to upgrade your skills? More VC, please!

It’s not an unfamiliar model. Many games have you earn and spend currency as you progress. And while selling that currency for real money feels a bit like cheating, it’s a common enough practice. Yet, 2K seems to push the boundaries.

When 2K25 first launched its early access, levels of earnable VC were set reasonably. But as the game rolled out more broadly, a stealthy update altered this economy. Now earning VC feels significantly tougher.

Redditors did their math, finding that achieving level 99 has gone from a hefty 92 hours to a staggering 214 hours. The VC cost to level up or buy essential gear has soared by 60%. The intended progression was slow enough, but 2K clearly decided it wasn’t slow enough to encourage spending. Hence, they didn’t delay in pulling those levers—almost gleefully.

Even as a casual observer, I noticed the shift in earnings—prompting me to investigate further, eventually unearthing the unpleasant truth. The Steam reviews are rough. Words like “greedy” are frequent, but the most fitting might be “Predatory.” And honestly? That’s spot on. Another word that comes to mind? Disgusting. I’ve got a few less polite terms, but they’re probably best left unsaid.

I was genuinely enjoying PGA Tour 2K25 until this revelation. The prelude? Just minor grumbles about slow menu transitions and pop-ups. But now, the whole thing feels shadowed by blatant cash grabs. It resembles a free-to-play mobile game with its time-sinks and in-game purchases. My engagement’s waning rapidly when the progression is disappointingly sluggish and overtly geared towards nudging more cash my way through transactions.

Simply put, this nonsense might be excusable in a free-to-play game, but this is different. Folks have shelled out serious money—up to a hundred pounds or more—for this experience. It’s ridiculous. It’s a real insult to what could’ve been—the best golf game I’ve encountered in a decade. Like my own unfortunate golfing blunders, 2K has concocted something wonderful only to let greed unravel it. What an absolute pity.