Overall, according to the DOJ, Routh was convicted of “attempted assassination of a major presidential candidate, which carries a maximum penalty of life imprisonment; possessing a firearm in furtherance of a crime of violence, which carries a maximum penalty of life imprisonment; assaulting a federal officer (the Secret Service Special Agent, Robert Fercano), which carries a maximum penalty of 20 years in prison; felon in possession of a firearm and ammunition, which carries a maximum penalty of 15 years in prison; and possession of a firearm with an obliterated serial number, which carries a maximum penalty of five years in prison.”

The trial was theater from start to finish on the defendant’s side because he decided to represent himself. Routh’s defense? Thin as tissue paper in a rainstorm. According to the Associated Press, Routh’s main argument was that he never intended to kill anyone, telling jurors that a possession of a weapon or being near the golf course did not prove an assassination attempt.

According to the New York Post, in court filings, Routh compared himself to George Bailey in the 1946 Christmas film “It’s a Wonderful Life,” challenged Trump to a golf game and called him a “bafoon” (sic), idiot, racist pig and a dumb*ss in the filings as well.

On the other side, prosecutors rolled out actual evidence including surveillance photos, burner phone records, evidence of an armed Routh skulking around a golf course and more. They also called in 38 law enforcement witnesses while Routh had only three witnesses which included two character witnesses and one gun expert.

When the guilty verdict dropped, Routh reportedly tried to stage a final act of defiance by attempting to stab himself in the neck with a pen. Court security wasn’t impressed. Neither was his daughter, who bolted from the courtroom screaming after the verdict, yelling, “Dad, I love you. Don’t do anything. I’ll get you out. He didn’t hurt anybody.” She also cursed near front of the jury saying, “What the f—. F—. He didn’t hurt anybody. This is not fair. This is all rigged – you guys are a–holes.”

Now as Routh heads towards the possibility of lifetime behind bars when he is sentenced in December, his assassin’s résumé reduced to a footnote under “failed attempts” and a letter he left behind hoping that someone else would finish the job.

In the end, Routh’s courtroom antics, self-styled hero narrative, and flimsy defense collapsed under the weight of cold, hard evidence. What he envisioned as his starring role in history closed with the kind of curtain drop no actor wants: a lifetime sentence looming, a family in shambles, and his name etched not as a revolutionary, but as a cautionary tale of delusion, failure, and self-destruction.