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

There’s something uniquely relaxing about diving into a virtual game of golf, and I’ve been hooked ever since discovering the joy of digital swings. Back in my teenage years, EA’s Tiger Woods titles were my go-to for unwinding—those games were my refuge, a space to escape into when life felt a little too much. Fast forward to today, my golf clubs gather dust in the garage due to life’s relentless pace, but the pull of a golf game to fill that void never fades.

So, when I got wind of PGA Tour 2K25 hitting the shelves, I was intrigued. Having appreciated 2K’s initial leap into golf simulations, I thought it was time to revisit this realm. Their latest endeavor promised enhancements and fresh nuances unheard of since its 2021 counterpart. So, I didn’t hesitate, diving in with both feet by grabbing the Premium Edition on Steam—because hey, if you’re going in, you might as well go all in, right?

Cast against my somewhat hazy memory of the earlier title, PGA Tour 2K25 reveals a finely tuned evolution—it’s smoother, more refined, and presents an interface that’s intuitive to the point where the game feels welcoming to newcomers yet rewarding for veterans. One feature that stands out is the assists system. By mirroring those seen in racing games like Forza Motorsport, this system offers a tailored experience that satisfies both sim enthusiasts and casual players seeking quick thrills.

Here’s how it breaks down – playing in an arcade-style reminiscent of the revered PS2-era Tiger Woods games earns your custom career player a full set of Experience points (XP) per game. However, turning off certain features can boost this XP, offering more rewards for those willing to embrace the challenge.

The Forza comparison fits perfectly here. In racing, I tend to disable the guiding line because I’m confident in my racing skills, and this gives me an XP boost. Similarly, in PGA Tour 2K25, I turn off aids for wind adjustment but keep putting assists on, given my less-than-stellar putting skills. By configuring these settings to match my comfort zone, I was set to earn 120% more XP than the standard player, while even more skilled players could rake in even more rewards.

XP is central to the game, unlocking rewards, advancing your player, and earning the currency you need for equipment. I enjoy the balance between breezy gameplay aided by assists with the potential for a more punishing, realistic challenge if I choose to tweak those settings.

Career mode also complements this balance wonderfully. It conveniently allows players to play only select holes of a course, with AI simulating the rest—avoiding the monotony of playing every single hole. You can also dive into other elements like training mini-games and player rivalries, which hark back to what made older golf games captivating: they’re simulations married with fun elements. Golf’s accessibility—pick up a club and play—translates beautifully into this digital format, emphasizing a relaxed high-level experience over the strenuous challenge that real life often throws at us.

Yet, despite all these positives, there’s a dark cloud casting a shadow over this delightful experience. A silent update post-release has highlighted an uncomfortable truth about the game. Progression of your “myPLAYER,” or customized golfing protagonist, relies heavily on spending currency—acquired either through gameplay or, tellingly, by reaching into your pocket.

Initially, the game allowed for a reasonable VC (Virtual Currency) gain, but then things changed. Furious discussions on Reddit detailed how leveling up your character skyrocketed in difficulty post-patch—going from a demanding 92 hours to a staggering 214. The costs of essential upgrades increased by up to 60%. Such changes suggest 2K’s strategy to make earning VC seem so challenging that players are almost nudge towards spending real money.

Even as a casual observer, this shift was impossible to miss. Steam reviews turned harsh, with many users labeling the system as downright “predatory.” Other choice words like “disgusting” pop up frequently—compliments I agree with wholeheartedly. This emerging pay-to-progress model, fit for free-to-play mobile titles, tarnishes the experience of what could otherwise be hailed as the decade’s best golf game. What’s sold as a premier product feels tainted by greed—a shame considering how brilliantly crafted everything else is.

So here we are. Despite being a fantastic game, PGA Tour 2K25 stumbles at the final hurdle, much like missing an easy putt after a perfect drive. It’s tragic to see a game with such potential be marred by a monetary grab that turns an enjoyable experience into sheer exasperation.