Halfway through and it's going well. The big guns are starting to fire, the hosts gave us a dogfight to savour, and the Associates have been showered with praise. Crowds are mainly good, like the pitches are for the batsmen, but the Australian newspapers are winter sport-heavy as the footie season looms. The Afghanistanis have written us the most marvellous script. I mean, fancy going face to face with the Australians at the WACA. The press down under has touched upon this fairy tale but not fully explored its magic. Of course, the Aussies gave them a flogging, but compared to their previous life, what went on in Perth was barely a flesh wound.

The bats need regulating because they will only get bigger, and the two new balls don't work for me, but, hey, reverse swing leads to mistrust, so it's an easier life without it. What a shame, such a glorious art. The field restrictions diminish the bowler and extend the advantage for the side batting first, which already has an advantage in almost all day-night games.

This is all by way of introduction. The point of the memo is three issues that require the most immediate attention.

1. In the match between Australia and England at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, James Taylor was denied a hundred by a flaw in the system of adjudication. With England nine wickets down, Taylor needed two runs for three figures but missed his shot and the ball cannoned into his pads. The umpire ruled him lbw. The ball trickled away for a possible leg-bye. Taylor signalled for a review of the decision. The uncertainty led to hesitation. James Anderson, backing up, attempted the run but the throw hit the stumps direct. The lbw review went in Taylor's favour. The run-out review went against Anderson.

Out, review, not out, review, out. Wrong.

The playing condition states that after the umpire's finger has been raised, the ball becomes dead. Anderson could not have been run out. The ICC admitted the umpires' mistake the next day. It was a bad one.

Anyway, forget about the mistake for a minute. Imagine the same thing happening with two needed to win off the last ball of the World Cup final between Australia and India. This is not as unlikely as it seems. An attempted slog often hits the pads and ricochets away. The bowler will surely appeal. Umpires are under extreme pressure. Fingers go up, batsmen review. What then? Dead ball? End of match? Even if the review is upheld? And, wait for it, what if the ball ricochets to the boundary and rolls over the rope? The boundary should win the World Cup. But the ball is dead, even though the batsman has been proved not out.

Thus, the DRS has created a problem. In search of the truth, an injustice occurs. When a batsman reviews a decision given against him, the game stops. Fielders, first celebrating the supposed dismissal - and certainly not chasing the ball - stop to see whether or not they have their man. The batsman, of course, stops to find out the same. The DRS was introduced to eradicate "the howler" (hate that expression). In this illustration it has eradicated the shocker, okay, but created an even bigger shocker still.

This needs sorting before a crucial moment, watched by the world, is reduced to farce. It needs sorting tomorrow. I have used the final as the ultimate example, but if it happens at any stage of the knockout phase, there will be anarchy.

2. AB de Villiers received a fine and a warning for his team's over rate in the match against India. The next time the South Africans transgress, de Villiers will receive an automatic one-match ban. Imagine a tight semi-final and the defence of a big total. Imagine de Villiers taking his time to get his field right and the South Africans coming out winners. Imagine the South Africans being one over the wrong side of the law. Imagine de Villiers (or Dhoni or McCullum or Clarke) banned for the final.

A lifetime's dream snatched away on the cusp of its realisation. A golden talent denied the ultimate stage. A global audience denied the most thrilling batsman in the game. This cannot be right, although the law has good intention. Common sense must prevail. De Villiers is the Viv Richards, the Sachin Tendulkar of the moment. The richness of his play should inspire a reboot of the system.

How about a clean slate for the start of the knockout stage? After that, if AB's team makes the same mistake twice before the final, more fool them.

"The great joy of the World Cup is that it is actually two separate events. The first celebrates the game and recognises emerging nations in a festival of cricket. The second is the journey to crown the best team"

3. Soon to be a clich but the tournament needs a positive spin from the governing body on the number of Associate teams that will play in the next World Cup. Clearly the sway of opinion tells the ICC that any reduction in numbers will lead to rebellion. Afghanistan and others have become so much a part of this World Cup that a better option would be to increase the number of Associates to six.

Underdogs add value. Think of the winter Olympics without the Jamaican bobsleigh team. Or, more seriously, the Aussie speed skater Steve Bradbury, who watched all the other competitors crash into each other before he eased over the finish line. Or Kip Keino, who won the 1500-metre gold at the 1968 games in Mexico. Keino had gallstones in his guts, and as if that wasn't enough, had to run to the stadium for the race because his bus got stuck in traffic.

Two pools of eight, in the same format as we are watching now, but with a day match and a day-night match at weekends and on three alternate days of the week. This allows for 12 matches each week to complete the pool stages in a month.

The television crews need time to move from venue to venue, while the sponsors and advertisers would not accept a clash of too many games televised at the same time on different channels. With a blend of daytime and day-night matches, the television overlap would apply only to the afternoon session. Granted, the finessing of the schedule is not as simple as it may first seem. But it can be done if the will is strong.

The great joy of the World Cup is that it is actually two separate events. The first celebrates the game and recognises emerging nations in a festival of cricket that allows embryonic talent to mix it with the best players on the planet. The second is the journey to crown the best team.

Let them remain as one, ICC. The chance is there to create a template. Take it.

And finally, next time the top 14 cricket-playing nations are in the same place at the same time, gather them together and run a conference that addresses all the challenges faced by the sport as it takes root in the 21st century. It is their game. Ask them about it.