The English first five-eighths even remarked in the sobering wake of defeat that he would have been comfortable taking the shot for goal. It was a selfish and miscalculated comment that should be viewed as nothing less than an appalling criticism of his own captain, even with his subsequent comment that he supported the ultimate decision.
England wanted to win - no, they needed to win - and Robshaw was right on the money in eschewing the chance for a disappointing draw for the chance at a memorable victory.
All that is just a smokescreen, though. For the Welsh did, in some respects, lay down a blueprint to win this competition, although they probably won't be the ones following that plan through to the very end, given their ever-expanding injury list.
They showed us it's okay to play pressure rugby, to play for the whistle and to kick the goals along the way.
Last time I added it up, seven penalties were worth 21 points. Four tries were worth just 20.
The Welsh won this game with the selection of three genuine hunter-gatherers in their side. Dan Lydiate and Sam Warburton are two of the best (and quickest) breakdown flankers on the planet. Justin Tipuric, who started on the bench in Sunday's thriller, is quicker than both.
That they were able to constantly pressure the English at the ruck should be more alarming to coach Stuart Lancaster et al than anything else, especially given Australia have gone down the same path, certainly in the pairing of Michael Hooper and David Pocock.
It will come as no surprise to viewers of the game in this part of the world that it is a strategy that works. When the Wallabies unleashed their duo of destruction against the All Blacks in Sydney, they overpowered the New Zealanders at the breakdown. Richie McCaw may be the greatest No7 ever to wear the black jersey, but even he is no match for 80 minutes of two-on-one. With two genuine No7s operating in tandem, and another with the wherewithal elsewhere in the line, a team can do remarkable things.
And that's what Wales did on Sunday - something remarkable. They hustled and harassed and they clung to England like a bad reputation. They silenced the Twickenham crowd and won a bunch of penalties. And then a bloke called Dan Biggar kicked them all.
It was, in every respect, a night to celebrate the penalty for what it is, a greatly unappreciated way to win a game of rugby - especially when you kick seven of them like Biggar did on Sunday.
The least you can do is buy him a beer.