"Free admission pulls in a crowd hunting for a deal. They come, it's packed, service breaks down. They leave unhappy—even with the free socks. Meanwhile, the families who would happily pay for a great experience never show up at all, because they know exactly what a free day looks like."

That lesson cost us real money. I want to tell you the story, because if you're planning a park, this is the one mistake I hope you never make.

I'm Katie.

Wenzhou, Rainbow Bay Family Plaza. Our very first Pokiddo park.

Equipment installed. TUV certification done. Fire inspection passed. Opening day was tomorrow. And that's when Baoge and I realized something we'd completely missed: what should tickets cost?

We were equipment people, not operators. We knew manufacturing inside out. Pricing, guest flow, daily operations—that was all new territory.

We went back and forth with the team for hours. Finally Baoge made the call: "Tomorrow, entry is free."

We even ordered custom cotton trampoline socks and planned to give a pair to every visitor—for safety, and for the experience. Our thinking was simple: a free first day means crowds, crowds mean buzz, and buzz is basically free advertising.

That decision later became one of the biggest mistakes we've ever made.

I stood at the gate from opening to 9 PM closing.

By the end of the day, our clean, brand-new Pokiddo space looked like a war zone. Trash and tissue paper everywhere. The ball pit and the garbage bins were full of the free trampoline socks we'd handed out—not worn ones. Brand new ones, straight into the bin.

Equipment was used roughly. Soft padding got scratched. Walls got dirty. Staff ran themselves ragged and still couldn't keep up.

The worst part? A lot of the visitors weren't even happy. Lines were long. Inside, it was wall-to-wall people. Every attraction meant waiting. The faces leaving the park weren't satisfied—they were exhausted and disappointed.

That moment, something clicked.

That night, the whole team cleaned until late. Then we sat down to review. Nobody said anything for a while. We'd invested millions, prepared for months, and this was day one.

That night we learned the rule that's guided us ever since: you cannot serve everyone. You must choose who you serve.

Free admission attracts people who want something for nothing. They came. It was overcrowded. Our service couldn't keep up. They left unhappy—even with free socks in their hands. And the families who genuinely value a good experience stayed home, because they knew a free day means a mob.

So look at what free actually costs:

For the customer, free is expensive—they waste their time and get a bad experience.

For us, free is expensive—we paid the costs, burned our reputation, and put the whole team under enormous pressure.

From that day, Pokiddo learned one thing: a park isn't built on traffic. It's built on trust.

After that lesson, we rebuilt our approach from the ground up.

We stopped chasing "how many people came" and started chasing "did they enjoy it, and will they come back?"

We studied pricing strategy seriously. We built booking systems. We designed guest flow and welcome processes. We learned to serve fewer families on purpose, so that every family who walks in gets a genuinely great experience.

Because a satisfied family brings three new families. And one disappointed family can drive away ten potential customers.

We did the math. We know which side of that equation we want to be on.

Today we run 60-plus branded stores worldwide.

Recently, a 7,000+ sq.m park opened in Spain. Our operations partners flew over and empowered the client on site—pricing strategy, guest flow, staff training, emergency protocols. Every link was planned in advance.

Opening day ran smoothly. No chaos. No complaints. No garbage piles and discarded socks. The guests who came were exactly our target customers. They played, they were happy, they left satisfied—and many signed up for memberships on the spot.

That's the opening we want. Every time.

If you're considering building a park, or you're preparing for your own opening day, here's my advice:

Don't go free for the sake of being busy. Don't burn your reputation for the sake of foot traffic.

Choose your customers. Serve them well. Make them want to come back.

That lesson cost us real money. I hope it saves you some.

If you're working out how to start a trampoline park, your opening-day plan is part of the trampoline park cost—because a bad first impression has a price tag that never appears on the invoice. The trampoline park equipment can be perfect. The indoor trampoline park design can be stunning. Neither survives a launch that alienates the exact families you need.

And when you compare the trampoline park franchise cost against a direct partnership, ask what the partner's operational playbook says about launch. As a trampoline park manufacturer with dozens of opening days behind us, we can tell you what we tell every client: the goal of opening day is not the biggest crowd. It's the right crowd.

One satisfied family brings three. One disappointed family sends ten away. Choose who walks through your door—and everything downstream changes.