The day I tricked Prince Philip ... and how he got me back

I am honoured to have met the Queen and Prince Philip many times over the years, but it didn’t always go smoothly.

Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip during the Royal Tour of Australia in 1970.

We all have probably heard the words “rugby royalty” many times over the years, mainly addressed to players and coaches who have excelled in our great sport over the past 100 years or so.

As a young student at La Perouse Primary School, I remember when Queen Elizabeth II sailed through the heads of Botany Bay in 1970 on a not-so exact replica of the Endeavour 2, which anchored at Kurnell.

The local Aboriginal community across the bay at La Perouse played its role by asking its younger generation to help re-enact Cook’s landing some 200 years prior. And although we all played our roles to perfection, seeing the Queen in person for the very first time was a moment that I never will forget.

La Perouse wasn’t exactly an English term. The bay across from Kurnell was named after another brave captain, a Frenchman who arrived after Cook’s landing, so this small group of indigenous ­students had to learn how to sing La Marseillaise each year on July 14, Bastille Day.

When I captained the Wallabies to France in 1983, I must admit that I caused some distractions among my teammates when I naturally started to sing the French national anthem before the first Test match in Clermont-Ferrand. I was told later that was definitely not allowed. God Save the Queen only on this trip.

Speaking of Queen Elizabeth II, I am honoured to have met her and Prince Philip many times over the years through sport.

The first time was on the undefeated 1977-78 Australian Schoolboys tour of England, Ireland, Wales, France, Holland and Japan.

Travelling on the bus to Buckingham Palace to officially meet Her Majesty for the very first time, my brothers Glen, Gary and I were being isolated from most of the team’s chitchat.

Our supposed best mates were running a wager among themselves to see which one of the three Aboriginal players would make up for Cook’s landing in 1770 and pinch something from the palace.

The Queen enjoyed our company, as we did hers, and even though one or two of our rugby mates may have pocketed a few small items for their collections of British artefacts, I am proud to say that Glen, Gary and I behaved ourselves impeccably and enjoyed the banter with Her Majesty.

In 1982, Brisbane hosted the Commonwealth Games and although rugby wasn’t a part of the Games, the ARU decided to conduct a match between Queensland and the Barbarians.

I was honoured to be named as captain of the Barbarians, who turned out to be an interesting collection of players from all over Australia and New Zealand.

Prince Philip came to the match representing the Queen, and even though I had met him once or twice before he seemed a little distracted when I introduced the Barbarian players to him on the halfway mark at Ballymore Stadium.

The last player on our line-up was my twin brother Glen, so it surprised me when Prince Philip said to me in his deep English voice: “Are you two related?”

Much to his amazement and my sense of humour at the time, I immediately shot back at him that it was the first time that I had ever met Glen. Prince Philip then walked off the field continually glancing back at the both of us trying to work out if I had just taken the mickey out of him.

Twins Mark and Glen Ella in the early 1980s. Prince Philip once asked them: “Are you two related?”

A couple of years later after I ­retired in 1984, the Queen and Prince Philip again toured Australia and my wife Kim and I were gratefully invited to Canberra to join a group of 100 people for ­dinner with Her Majesty.

By this stage I had forgotten what it was like to spend much time in the gym or on the training track, so as you would expect I was a little bit heavier than the glory days. And so as we lined up I told my wife that Prince Philip and I were good mates — “just follow my lead”.

When we finally got to say hello to the royals, the first and only thing Prince Philip said to me was: “My God you have put on weight!”

All I could say to him in return was a weak hello and kept on moving with my wife bursting out in laughter and Her Majesty trying to ignore her husband and bring back some decorum to official proceedings. Although he waited a few years, he finally got me back for my misdemeanour in Brisbane.

On May 9 in 1988, my wife Kim and I were two of the 2000 people invited by Prime Minister Bob Hawke to Canberra to attend the opening of the new Parliament House by the Queen.

It was a great day and I am proud to have been asked to attend the opening. But what made the day so special was that Bob Hawke also invited my wife and I to The Lodge for lunch with, of course, the Queen and Prince Philip.

Trying to act cool and knowledgeable, Kim and I were sipping on a gin and tonic admiring all the many presents to the Queen from the Australian pubic when we noticed a small bust of Her Majesty in the corner of one of the many anterooms at The Lodge.

I quietly whispered to Kim, “my God have a look at that, it’s horrible”. And to my complete surprise, I heard a very softly spoken reply: “Yes, Mark, I rather agree.”

For the next 10 minutes I tried to convince Her Majesty that I was wrong and it would look great back at Buckingham Palace.

Many years later when I took an indigenous cricket team to England we also called into Buckingham Palace for afternoon tea with Her Majesty. I jokingly asked about the bust and she just smiled at me and that was it.

It was never to be seen again.

God Save the Queen … and Prince Philip as well.